Tempura Spitfire
by Chyme for the Rhyme
Summary: 'Flowers it is. Massive, sunshine, everything-is-fucking-great yellow ones, that will make him sneeze his head off.' Months ago, Bakugou Katsuki had had a conversation with his father that had inspired him to act on his feelings for Izuku. This is the story of how said attempt turned out. [Sequel to 'Ramen Drama.' Or perhaps a prequel, instead?]
1. The Gift

Izuku was rarely first to class. Though he did always tend to end up second or third, depending on the weird march of a conga line Iida insisted they travel in every day to morning registration. And he wouldn't have minded that too much, except...except that after a few weeks a weird video of them ended up being emailed to Kaminari of all people, accompanied by the cheerful theme of Totoro playing in the background. And each one of their faces had been replaced by the screencapped expressions of the three main characters in said film.

Iida, being the tallest and the obvious leader, was carrying the face of Totoro, although the long, brown ears had been snapped off by whatever photo editing software the creator had used; probably, Izuku guessed, not to screw with the video's frame-rate too much. He also wasn't surprised to see that he and Uraraka had been blessed with the chubby faces of the two girls in the film, Satsuki and Mei - though he was a little gratified to see that he had been given the role of the _older_ girl, while poor Uraraka, probably forever doomed to be the shortest out of the three of them, was stuck as the young Mei. She had laughed, and taken it with cheerful grace of course; until Kacchan had sneered out that it was an obvious choice to make, given that she had 'cheeks as round as the damn moon!'

'Like,' he had added, with the same barking ferocity he threw out most of his observations with, 'all fucking toddlers do: big surprise there.'

She had looked so downhearted after that, that Izuku had frowned at Kacchan, ready to bite out a defence of his friend. Except that the glower Kacchan had been directing Izuku's way, from under his furrowed brows, seemed to be egging him on, saying 'go on, Deku, I _dare_ you.' Not to mention that sad little frown on Uraraka's lovely, in no-way-fat-face was busy tugging at his heartstrings.

It was enough to make Izuku remember the way he had seen his own mother stare wistfully in the mirror sometimes, prodding and squeezing the round lumps of her cheeks with a sigh, and he felt fiery determination strike him then. Because unlike Kacchan, he was actually _sensitive_ to the women in his life, thank you very much.

So without wasting a beat, he savagely tore his gaze from Kacchan's own and took Uraraka's shoulders under his hands gently, despite the fierce blush that travelled up to his face. Because...well. _He was touching a girl's shoulders!_ True, they had the barrier of her school uniform in place, preventing him from feeling whatever softness they yielded (though Uraraka worked out a lot, so maybe she had hard muscles wrapping their way over her bones and was no softer than Izuku there, and oh dear, he shouldn't really be thinking about this, oh no!) but _still_. They were shoulders. Belonging to an actual _girl._

 _And. It. Was. Amazing._

'U-u-Uraraka-san!' he choked out, feeling his face warm at the way her pupils dilated in shock. 'G-g-guys really like girls who have round faces! Because they look cute! I m-m-mean the people always write poems about the moon, saying it's ah, beautiful, and people always end up staring at a full moon, so it's great really, the comparison...it just means people are drawn to you, and that you have the same effect as the moon!'

 _What was he saying?_ **WHAT WAS HE SAYING!**

But Iida looked like he'd been close to exploding, shouting noises that sounded a lot like agreement as he chopped his hands through the air with a bunch of firm movements. And a few other members of the class had been sniggering, but good-naturedly so, or so Izuku hoped, which meant he must have been doing _something_ right.

'YES, URARAKA-SAN, MIDORIYA IS RIGHT, YOU SHOULD BE PROUD TO HOST CHEEKS AS BULBOUS AND BRIGHT AS THE MOON ITSELF!'

'Way to miss the point entirely, Iida,' Jirou muttered, stuffing her face full of cake.

Izuku laughed. But couldn't help but let Kacchan fall into his line of sight again. And Kacchan looked...gobsmacked. For just a single moment of time. Then his face closed off and with an abrupt turn, he stomped back to his room.

Izuku watched him go, feeling a little gobsmacked himself. Because since when did Kacchan run away from a remark Izuku made, at least without stopping to sneer at it first?

* * *

On Monday, despite the embarrassment of that video still circulating round their class, Izuku and Uraraka joined in their usual brisk march to the classroom, Iida towering ahead of them all.

'Come on, _Satsuki_ ,' Uraraka laughed, playfully pushing his shoulder; and at her touch, even without her quirk activated, Izuku felt his feet practically float off the ground at the sensation of her round fingertips. It made him glide forward a little faster, smooth out his footsteps overall. Fast enough in fact, to make a sizable bruise in his face appear, as he rammed straight into the back of Iida who had paused in the doorway.

'My apologies Midoriya!' boomed Iida, his arm jutting out, and moving up and down rapidly to indicate the full force of his emotions. 'I was simply struck by surprise at your good fortune! Even if it is against the regulations to bring botany inside the classroom, if it is not to be used for study! But still! The gesture connotes a lot of good will towards you and is to be respected! Though what of the students who may have allergies or experience hay-fever?! Perhaps, good intentions aside, it is quite thoughtless to-'

 _What,_ Izuku thought, peering round Iida's shoulder and tuning out his voice just a little. Not too much though, only enough to feel a tiny bit guilty. **_What_** _,_ he found himself thinking again, as his sight ended up confronted by a large bouquet of yellow flowers, carefully propped up inside a pale red vase.

Long, narrow and angular, the vase forced the flower to burst out of its small opening and form a towering doom of colour, as though to imitate the wide spread of branches within a tree. Leaves trailed out and around the circular faces of sunflowers, brushed out under the taunt faces of roses, and finished by stroking up against the peeling petals of tulips, all of which were a delightful, bright yellow. The mixture of the three species should have been a tawny, gaudy affair. But whoever had displayed them out here had also pushed them into the vase and carefully tilted and tweaked their positions until the arrangement looked...well. Damn near professional. Not to mention pretty.

Izuku stumbled over to his desk. 'Maybe they got my desk confused with someone else's?' he choked out.

'Aw, come on Deku!' Uraraka bounced round him, a strange, pinched look on her face. The next second Izuku almost thought he had imagined it as she launched herself forward and started enthusiastically slapping him on the back. 'Who wouldn't want to give a nice gift to someone like you?'

'Yeah, you are kind of a sweetheart.'

Izuku started to sweat horribly, as Midnight peered over his shoulder, one long finger lifting up a leaf for inspection with one elegant flip. Her smile, sly and a little charmed, brightened as she saw a tiny sunflower nearly concealed beneath. 'At least,' she continued, 'a sweetheart compared to some of the other sprouts in this class.'

And though she made no effect to single anybody else out, the quick glance she threw at Mineta, who was now currently dry heaving and clutching his school bag as though he was confusing it for a bucket to throw up in, gave it all away.

Izuku bit his lip as he heard the smaller boy let out a loud wail of 'UNFAIR! WHY WOULD THE FIRST PERSON IN THE CLASS TO GET FLOWERS BE MIDORIYA!' and let his gaze lock back onto the flowers. They were lovely, and despite the gesture being traditionally aimed towards women, he was still a little charmed despite himself. ...Which of course meant that someone had surely got confused and made a mistake (perhaps because of being hit by a memory-altering quirk?) and ended up placing the flowers on the wrong desk.

It was hard to be too distracted though; the stilted fall of footsteps, and the absence of the noise of chairs being slid out and away from desks, meant that Izuku and the flowers were starting to be surrounded by more people, as the rest of the class traipsed in.

'Way to go, Dude!' Kaminari said, sounding almost as enthusiastic as Uraraka had been, and nudging Izuku in the idea with his elbow as though to reinforce this. 'I wonder who the admirer is? She's got to have guts, to pull a stunt like this!'

'Not to mention a good eye,' muttered Jirou, eying the flowers critically, though the faint flush on her face and the interested light in her eyes spoke of how she had been as similarly charmed by the gesture as Izuku had. 'Unlike you, Kaminari.'

He turned to her, stung, opened his mouth and then closed it again.

'That's what I thought.'

'Oh come ooooon,' growled Mina, wrapping her arm in an incredibly chummy fashion around Jirou's neck and hugging the other's girl shoulders, all with a force Jirou stoically suffered. 'He got you that guitar pick, right? The one with the cute forget-me-nots printed on it?'

Jirou's flush grew brighter. 'Only because he broke my other one!'

'I said I was sorry!' Kaminari wailed. 'And I thought those tiny blue flowers were cute! Tucked away into the background the way you always are! Besides don't girls like flowers?'

Izuku nodded his head firmly, with one decisive snap. 'Yes! Exactly! They do! Which is why they must have got the wrong desk! Not to say a guy wouldn't like it if a girl got him flowers of course, but traditionally, um, I mean it would make more sense for this to be a simple mistake!' he finished off, in part to interrupt the complicated look on Jirou's face, as though she wasn't sure whether to insult Kaminari, or laugh at him. But also to halt the warning look Momo was giving **him**. Because it was weird; she had never looked at him like that before.

'I dunno,' said Kirishima, sounding thoughtful as he curled his fingers beneath his chin, bringing it up to rub absently against his lip. 'I mean, I think it's pretty manly to give the person you like flowers; the spirit of it, I mean.'

'Those sunflower petals are the same shade as Midoriya's backpack,' Todoroki suddenly pointed out with a low murmur, as though nobody else had spoken. It certainly made everyone else give him a second glance; but he was looking only at Izuku and quite seriously too. 'And the rest are a little brighter, almost like All Might's hair. There must be sending you a message of how well they know you.'

Izuku blinked and then gaped at Todoroki.

'No, no, I think you're putting a little too much thought into this...'

Though he couldn't help but sneak another look at the flower, because, yes, now that Todoroki had mentioned it, Izuku could see that the colour of the sunflower petals did mesh quite well with the canvas lining of his backpack. And yes, the tulips and roses _did_ seem to share the same light gold shade as All Might's hair. Weird; he didn't know you could get roses that bright. He had only ever seen dimmer versions of the colour wedged inside their petals, a hue that descended down into cream, or close enough to it.

Then there was a loud, familiar snort, approximately two shoulder-blades away from him and Izuku froze.

'Read. The. Damn. Card. Idiot,' Kacchan grit out from between his teeth before, with a quick lunge, he reached out and snatched the small placard propped up against the vase. Izuku blinked as Kacchan then practically shoved it up against his face, one of the corners harshly jabbing into his cheek. Because, oh! How had he not noticed that?

He gingerly peeled it away from Kacchan's hand, relieved when the other boy huffed, but did nothing more, and let his sight dip, to take in the words written there.

'Sneeze and die, fuckhead,' it read, in the most beautiful crafted set of letters Izuku had ever seen. He almost thought it had been typed up and arranged in the most stylised computer font someone could find; but no. Peering closer, he could see the shine of ink that could only flow out of the end of a pen, as he tilted it up towards the light, lacking the usual dense and solid look of a printed set of words.

And also...

Izuku blinked, realised that the rest of the class was busy gawping at Kacchan and then felt himself colour as he realised the implication of such a card. He opened his mouth, highly aware of how intently Kacchan was watching him (and also, how he looked like he was a single word from bolting out and coating air with his trademark explosions) when Kaminari _giggled._

'Damn, _Kacchan,_ do you have a twin sister?'

Kacchan starting shaking, a complicated grimace twisting his face.

'Aaaaaand, you're dead,' Jirou said, gracefully sliding out of Mina's grip and taking a quick step away from Kaminari. 'Nice knowing you.'

Izuku's thought were whirling, his hand already outstretching; for some reason he had an insane, suicidal impulse to save Kaminari from his own grave.

'Aaaaah,' sighed Mineta, wiping the sweat of relief away from his brow, with one strident swipe of his hand. 'It was a joke! Good one, Bakugou!' and then, for some bizarre reason, he had the audacity to slap the back of Kacchan's leg as a sign of manly appreciation. Izuku goggled at him. 'For a moment there, I really _had_ thought that Midoriya had gotten flowers from someone.'

Some tension eased from the class. Though a few people were still throwing uncertain looks at each other, and Yaoyorozu was murmuring a gentle, 'no, that doesn't seem his style,' while Uraraka was busy glaring at Kacchan, as though she wanted to sock him in the face. Izuku found himself really hoping she didn't. She was good at fighting, but not as good as Kacchan; more than that though, he hated seeing her hurt.

'What a horrible trick to play,' she growled, voice like thunder.

And Kacchan stared back at her, outraged. But there was something mean in his eyes now, Izuku could see it, and felt his stomach clench in dread.

'IT'S NOT A JOKE, YOU SHITHEADS!'

Kirishima, Izuku suddenly realised with a start, was watching the scene with an uncharacteristically grave look on his face.

'WHO WOULD JOKE ABOUT LIKING SOMEONE WHO'S STILL TOO STUPID TO UNDERSTAND A CONFESSION WHEN HE GETS ONE!'

'Oooohhhh,' said Midnight, slamming her elbows on Izuku's desk, bent nearly half at the waist and cupping her cheeks in her hands. She was watching Kacchan avidly, a look of dawning delight on her face.

'OI DEKU.' Izuku straightened to attention as Kacchan flung a finger out at him, nearly stabbing him in the neck. 'THROW THE FLOWERS AWAY, EAT THEM, SHIT ON THEM, I DON'T CARE! BUT THEY...I...

And then something really weird happened. Kacchan seemed to run out of steam, huddling in a little on himself, shoulders tensing as his hand dropped. His glare was still there, his eyes were still locked on Izuku but he looked...not uncertain, exactly. Just...like he was bracing himself for a slam to the stomach or something.

'Damn it,' he finished off, his voice approaching a more normal volume. 'Go out with me. For one fucking **_date.'_** He said the word as though it had personally offended him, his expression twisting with distain. 'Then you can tell me to get lost or whatever.'

Silence. Again. Izuku's mind was a blank roar. Except he was trembling, he could feel it, every inch of him was now alive and rocked with adrenalin.

'Deku,' said Uraraka, worry infusing her face, as she reached for him.

Izuku couldn't look at her, only at Kacchan. It wasn't disgust that churned in his gut, but it was certainly something just as strong.

'No,' he said quietly, something small and angry and hard in his voice, something he usually didn't let it to the surface with Kacchan. Usually his anger, his temper, when he was pushed far enough, was explosive when it concerned the two of them, fit for scrapping or shouting. But not this time. 'Sorry, Kacchan, but no.'

There was another silence.

Then:

'Get out of my classroom,' Aizawa, said, plonking his register on Midnight's head as though she was the chopping board, and it were the tomato he wanted to slice. 'Everybody else: sit down. You're here to become heroes, not daytime drama actors.'

* * *

If Aizawa had expected anyone to actually work that morning, he was in for a disappointment. There was a buzz running through the class for the next half-hour, despite the scratching of pens, and the half-hearted looks people kept giving both the board and their teacher as he droned on.

Izuku for his part was trying, really. But it was hard, when Kacchan, _all_ of him, his back and the stiff glow of his light hair, was taking up the entirety of his vision. Every time he looked up, there he was, shoulders hunched, blazing into proximity more than he ever had before with just his presence alone. Izuku felt his breath catch at the feel of it and he cursed himself, his pen creaking slightly under his grip. For he had yet to write a single word.

A problem, he noted grudgingly, that Kacchan didn't seem to have. Even though the other boy's back blocked out most of the view Izuku had of Kacchan's desk, all those little niggles of movement in the owner's shoulder meant that he was actually still managing to function the way a normal student should, his pen becoming a casual blur across the paper in a way Izuku's refused. And Izuku felt himself tense at that. Because he was pretty sure that if he had been the one REJECTED after giving a CONFESSION-

Izuku's brain ran to a prompt halt. Because had he...actually rejected Kacchan?

Izuku gulped, fought off the desire to pinch himself. He had said 'no' with such clarity to Kacchan fifteen minutes ago, had said it so firmly without a single stutter, that he hadn't really stopped to analyse as many of the details about the situation as he should have. Because he well knew that while Kacchan's idea of a joke may have been mean, it never involved anything close to lying. Besides, Izuku knew most, if not all, of Kacchan's facial expressions. And what Kacchan had said to him, the meaning behind the flowers, and the note...that was serious. His gaze, even the tremor in his voice, no matter the rise and fall in volume, had said as much.

It made Izuku want to throw up. Because now, after the initial shock had worn off, the horror was setting in. Because that date Kacchan had wanted...still wanted...meant that he _what?_ Wanted to do the same things with him, that in some guilty part of his own mind, Izuku sometimes dreamed of doing with Uraraka? Even the mundane things that made his stomach start doing flips and his hands shake, like hearing Uraraka's cheerful voice on the end of phone, or seeing the way her uniform fell and flowed over the very nice shape of her body...did that mean Kacchan felt something similar when he looked at Izuku or heard him speak?

An image of Kacchan, his eyes slanted and empty like a demon, the way he was during the very worse fits of his temper, jumped into Izuku's mind suddenly, his palms crackling as he screamed **DIE! DIE!** ...And then it started mouthing off about how he hated Deku and how Deku should stop looking down on him, and Izuku cringed. True, Kacchan hadn't exhibited any of that behaviour in...

Izuku paused. And felt like he needed to sit down heavily, despite the fact he was already rooted in his seat behind his desk. Okay, yes, _sure,_ he had been _aware_ that their relationship was in a much better place than it had been for years. Kacchan looked at him as though he was more than an ant now, even saw him as a rival of sorts, striving for the same place Kacchan was determined to beat down and make all his own. He hadn't actually screamed the word 'hate' in relation to Izuku for what felt like months. Possibly even was. He was still loud and brash and contemptuous towards Izuku. But...

Izuku could read Kacchan like a book, that much was true. He had just never really counted on the fact that Kacchan would start adding new chapters to himself, specifically chapters on desiring actual romantic interaction with someone. The idea of that someone being 'him' was laughable.

And yet here he was, frozen, unable to write a word of what Aizawa was saying.

Izuku breathed out through his nose. Pressed his pen down harder against the page. And started to sketch out every second sentence Aizawa was saying. His head hurt, but he was here to work, to be better, more deserving of the chance All Might had given him, not worry about this sudden new mutation in Kacchan's personal-

There was a snap that sounded more like a click, and suddenly the biro in his hand was nothing more than threads of plastic, butchered by the curls of his fingers. Izuku could barely move as a sharp rainfall of black ink promptly drowned out the few, half-hearted words he had began to write. And also doused the back of Kacchan's shirt.

Izuku's mouth opened and stayed that way.

The shoulders in front of him shook slightly. Then slowly, as though every trope in a horror movie had suddenly come to life, Kacchan turned, his eyes hot and fierce. And also distinctly red-rimmed.

Izuku's mouth slammed shut. He wasn't sure what to do with this new piece of evidence.

Aizawa didn't sigh or roll his eyes towards the ceiling, the way another teacher might. Instead he stared at them both, completely dead-eyed. _What else was I expecting?_ Izuku seemed to read in his eyes.

'Out,' he said, as though announcing the weather with a dead-pan drawl. 'Get a new shirt Bakugo. Midoriya, go cool your head and get your temper under control.'

That startled Izuku, especially since he realised, half a second later, that Aizawa was right: he was _angry._

'And take those things away,' Aizawa continued, lifting a hand to point at the vase of flowers Midoriya had carefully shifted to the floor, beside his desk. 'Otherwise I'll probably have to tell you to get a dustpan and brush later on.'

Izuku tried to choke his temper at that, shove it down deep, as he pulled the vase into his arms gingerly, taking care not to crush any of the flower bursting out of the top. It was a difficult task; the flowers spilled out, bumping up under his chin with their height and he felt ridiculous, staggering out of the classroom as though he was some boyfriend weighed down with his girlfriend's books. He instantly felt more angry, but this time with himself, for coming up with that analogy.

'Why don't you toss them out in the trash if you hate them that much?!' Kacchan hissed from beside him in the corridor and Izuku flicked him a side-glance, cautiously aware of the fact that Kacchan was taking the time to keep pace with him, despite his usually longer, more aggressive strides.

'I don't – urgh.' He made a face as he attempted to speak round a mouthful of petals. 'I don't hate them Kacchan! I'm not going to throw out something you obviously spent a lot of time on.'

Kacchan scoffed. 'Coulda fooled me with that face you were making. You looked like someone had barfed on your shoes.'

Izuku sighed. Already his anger was simmering, perhaps because Kacchan wasn't yelling at him or accusing him of being stuck-up or looking down on him, the way he might have done months back.

'I'm just surprised-'

'And angry,' Kacchan cut in. His scowl had faded into his more neutral look, the one he wore when he wasn't particularly angry. Izuku didn't trust it in the least. He did however trust the tone of Kacchan's voice. It was calm, which meant that he would probably be receptive to anything Izuku might choose to say.

'Yeah,' Izuku admitted. 'I'm pissed at you.'

He tried to keep his eyes in front of him, but couldn't quite surpress the surge of ...not smugness, not exactly, but accomplishment perhaps, as Kacchan shot him a quick, furrowed look at Izuku's word choice. Well, good. Izuku was feeling mad enough to use a slightly stronger word that he would otherwise normally.

 _Can you blame me?_ he wanted to ask. But he held it back, kept it carefully concealed by fixing his eyes on the wavering form of a sunflower below. Despite everything, he still felt the guilty jump of his heart as the door in front of him flew open, Kacchan suddenly shouldering it open with a brash bumping yank of his arm. And then he leaned back, head tilted, as he waited for Izuku to pass through in front of him.

Izuku paused tentatively. It was as though Kacchan was holding the door open for him. And then heat brushed up his neck and flared over his face, as Kacchan's neutral look collapsed into a slightly more heavy glare, because Izuku suddenly realised that _holy shit, Kacchan was actually holding the door open for him!_

He was instantly torn in two directions then. Either he could race through the gap and ignore Kacchan's behaviour, or else he could continue to walk through it at a normal pace, as though nothing else abnormal was happening. Instead, like an idiot, Izuku froze, and then a timid, quivering voice that was his own, piped up and asked, 'W-why did you do it in f-front of the rest of the c-c-class?'

He didn't even need to qualify what 'it' was. But then Kacchan didn't tear away from the door, and let it slam shut in front of Izuku's face as an affronted answer, the way Izuku half-expected him too. Instead his heavy scowl faded, lessoned, actual thought passing through his eyes in it's absence.

'I've never had a problem calling you out before, Deku,' he said, a casual growl in his voice. 'You didn't always deserve it' – and here his brow twitched violently as though he was having to fight to get the words out – 'though it sure as hell felt like you did, at the time.'

And that, thought Izuku dully, was probably as close to an apology as he would ever get from Kacchan.

'I'm...shit, sorry, I guess.'

Wait, WHAT?! Izuku stared at Kacchan, seeing the way Kacchan's eyes briefly flickered away, for what felt like the first time ever, before rapidly returning to his face. 'I was a shithead, so were you. I was just a bigger shithead most of the time.'

Most? **MOST?** Izuku would very much want to know when, exactly, _he_ was the one being a shithead in middle school?!

Kacchan snorted, wry amusement in his tone as he said, 'you're even more mad now, huh?'

Izuku clamped his mouth shut. For all that Kacchan had once yelled at him about how he could never figure out what was going in 'that head of yours' back when they fought after the provisional license exams, he sure didn't have a hard time decoding Izuku's day-to-day facial expressions.

'It shouldn't be any different now that I _like_ you, though.'

Izuku let a squeak escape him. And hated himself immediately, as Kacchan smirked at him.

'If I could say shit about you, to you, in front of the class before, then I should be able to say all this new shit in the same way now.'

Izuku stared at Kacchan. He was a bully and a sadist, but he was also brave in a way none of his other middle-school tormentors had been. _Here_ , his expression and clumsy words were saying _. I embarrassed and fucked you up in front of everybody for years; now it's only fair that I'm the one who gets fucked up and embarrassed and put on display._

Izuku felt tongue-tied. Then he shook himself, spared a glance at the red rims of Kacchan's eyes again; (because he _had_ made Kacchan cry before or get teary-eyed at least, but never so directly) and summoning up all his courage, strode past the boy who had given him these flowers and the least romantic proposal Izuku had ever had the horror of hearing.

'But you always set out to win,' he found himself saying in a near mumble as he brushed past Kacchan, never so as acutely aware of his presence until today. 'Always. What you did today was practically setting yourself up for failure. You knew I probably wouldn't say 'yes.'

Kacchan sent him another smirk, this one long and slow, showing his teeth, the way it always did when Kacchan let his fervour for battle stir him.

'Oi, Deku,' he sneered out, Izuku's nickname coming out with bite of snarl. 'Don't get ahead of yourself and go about thinking I've lost yet.'

The walk back to the dorms after that, was a very silent, silted affair.

And for once, Izuku's mind was deathly quiet to match.

* * *

 **Notes:** Next Chapter: Enter Aoyama. Though I doubt he needs to be given any stage directions for the resulting drama.


	2. The Revelation

Izuku should have felt terror rattle him. He should have been freaking out. And yet, it was curiosity that stirred him mostly, making him more mellow than he would have thought possible.

'Bakugou's confession was most surprising,' Iida ventured at lunch. 'Daring perhaps; I can think of no other person willing to confess to another person of the same gender in such open view of everyone.'

Uraraka frowned, her look turning pensive as she chewed. 'I've heard stories of a girl confessing to another girl in the second year, and a few more along that line...but no, you don't really hear of another boy confessing to another boy, really, do you? Or at least, not so publicly.'

Given how at least two male classmates had clapped the back of Izuku's shoulders already and given him either a pitying look or a whispered 'hang on in there,' Izuku had a keenly specific suspicion of why that might be so. But then again, he wasn't too enthusiastic about delving into the social stigma associated with why one same gender couple might not cause as much chaos in the classroom as another one could.

Either way, it all just asserted how stupidly brave and impulsive Kacchan was.

'It's Kacchan,' he said stoutly, drawing his chopsticks from his mouth. 'He doesn't care; if he had been born a girl, he probably would have behaved exactly the same way.' He then cringed at the resulting images that brought up because: **_no._**

Uraraka frowned even more. 'Still,' she said firmly. 'It's caused an awful lot of trouble for you.'

Izuku smiled. 'At least the flowers were nice,' he said softly. And refused to be baited further, bringing another mouthful of noodles to his face. They were soft and slippery on the tongue and he swallowed them down, eyes fixated on the tray below, rather than the looks he knew would be waiting for him from his friends when he looked up again.

He was just pondering on how to divert the conversation and stir it back into safer waters, when there was a soft tap of shoes against the floor beside the table. Izuku glanced up, feeling a weak smile crawling over his face as he saw Aoyama standing there, arms tucked behind his back as though he were hiding something.

'Hey, Aoyama-kun,' he greeted softly.

Perhaps Aoyama heard the gratefulness in his voice, because he smiled brightly. But then, he almost always smiled brightly, and Izuku couldn't help but feel apprehensive, more than surprised, when the other boy suddenly puffed out his chest, turned his head to the side and sighed, long and hard, and almost theatrical.

Uraraka blinked. 'Are you...crying?' she asked, a faint sort of concern present in her voice. Though there was also, Izuku noted warily, a small trill of trepidation in her tone as well.

Indeed, there looked to be what seemed like dewdrops clustered round the spokes of Aoyama's eyelashes, as though some small fairy had flown up there and painstakingly suspended them around the ends with a tiny pipette. And for some reason sprinkled glitter within their shimmering depths.

Izuku didn't know why he was even surprised at this point.

'Ah! Ne t'irrite pas!' Aoyama's speech, as always, seemed to flow into a bubbly rhythm which did absolutely nothing to disarm Izuku or prevent him flinching, when, with a terrifying sharp turn of the head, Aoyama directed his full attention back to him. 'Fear not, my friend! I know it was merely shyness and the amorous urge to make Bakugou work hard for your favour, that drove you to lie and refuse him earlier today!'

'Err,' said Izuku.

Aoyama nodded sagely. 'Which is why I shall go and convey your feelings for you! Think nothing of it! '

Izuku stared at him as though he had been hit with an mind-altering quirk. But no, this was...probably simply Aoyama-kun being himself, he must remember that...

Ignorant to Izuku's mental dilemma, Aoyama promptly spun round to present the bouquet of bright blood-red roses he held tightly behind his back to the eyes of everyone seated at their table, and Izuku goggled even more. Then, before he had time to so much as let out a sputter, his friend was suddenly marching off, fingers rigidly curling round to tear at the petals, and leaving them to trail through the air behind him in methodical clumps. Izuku watched with mounting horror as they fell across the tiled floor like splatters of blood, all the way over to Kacchan's table. A whine escaped him as understanding hit, and he was off, rocketing out of his seat, just as Aoyama let out a loud 'ahem' and dropped the bouquet, petals and all, straight in front of Kacchan's dinner plate.

Kacchan, for his part, stared down at the flowers as though Aoyama had shoved a dead pigeon before him.

'The hell is this?' he asked, real astonishment in his face, as Izuku, realising it was too late to stop Aoyama, turned his head frantically from side to side, trying to plot out the best escape route.

'A bridge!' announced Aoyama grandly, arms unfurling as he dropped into a gracious bow, then without losing a beat, spun and swept his arms out towards the path of petals that led over to the frozen Izuku. 'Back to that which your heart desires!'

For a moment Izuku was hooked by Kacchan's eyes, spearing straight through him, and the awful knowledge that there had never been a bridge between them, just a one-way road, slammed into him. Or so it had often felt, and today that feeling shone bright and hard in his mind. Aoyama was so, so wrong about them.

Even more so when Kacchan's look turned pissed fast.

'Haaaaaah?!' He all but snarled at Aoyama, his head whirling round to throw a furious glare at the preening blonde. 'What sort of romantic bullshit is this?'

'You started it,' Uraraka muttered nearby, but quietly enough for her voice not to carry.

It didn't matter because Aoyama had already proceeded to throw his arms out wide and glance up at the ceiling with tear-speckled eyes, as though to beseech the heavens. 'Midoriya is prickly, like a young pear that needs to be plucked-'

Uraraka started snorting into her glass of water and Izuku couldn't help but fuss over her worriedly, asking if she was alright.

'-but not before his time! Give him time to grow to accept his crush on you!'

Izuku, his hands rubbing a consoling pat on the still-choking Uraraka's back, turned his head sharply.

'My... _what?'_

Kacchan fixed him with a bored look, folded his arms, and turned to Aoyama, his eyes turning sharp.

'If Deku was enough of a piss-ant coward to get somebody to come up and confess for him, I wouldn't give him the time of day,' he said brutally. 'I'd wreck him good. You however-' he said, sticking a finger up, right into Aoyama's face. '-are a piss-ant busybody who suddenly fucking decided he can speak for the brain-dead idiot over there who can't even remember how to push a sentence together. That's almost as bad.' He shoved Aoyama back, but not as hard as he could have. 'Piss off. Your words don't mean shit.'

Then he set to scraping flower petals off his food, a look of heavy disgust on his face. Izuku meanwhile, felt his tongue rest heavy in his mouth, weighed down with things he didn't know how to say. And even if he did, where would he begin?

So he didn't. Instead, he kept his eyes on his own bowl, staring heavily down at the bundle of noodles he was busy twisting round his chopsticks. He felt a burn at the corner of his eyes, a familiar one, that usually announced the oncoming onslaught of a stream of tears. He kept his eyes fixed on his food as he ate and ate, and tried to keep anything Kacchan related out of his head. It was difficult though, given everything that had happened this morning.

Mostly though, he was just plain confused.

* * *

So he did what he always did when he encountered some new, frightening situation that he couldn't smash, kick, or analyse away. He went straight to the teacher's longue and started hammering away at the door as politely as he could.

'A-all-might?' he stammered. 'Excuse me...but are you there?'

The gods were on his side, because as soon as the question fell away from him, the door swung open, allowing a welcoming blaze of yellow to swim into his sight. Despite everything, All Might's hair retained the same, sharp shade of colour it had always had, even with his diminished appearance.

'Midoriya, my boy, what's wrong?'

The concern in his tone, in his bright blue eyes, made Izuku want to curl up and cry, and as it was, the tears he had been steadily fighting down the past few minutes started to bubble up to the surface. Hastily, he wiped a sleeve across his face.

'I...' he swallowed and forced himself inside the room, carefully coaxing the door shut behind him with a quiet slam. 'Have you ever had someone confess to you before?'

All Might straightened as though someone had sent an electric shock down his spine. 'Ah,' he said after a moment, as though Izuku hadn't surprised him with a totally inane question. 'I wondered if this might happen...you're at that age, after all.' And then he smiled, causing something in Izuku to loosen at the sight. 'I'm guessing you haven't given your admirer an answer, yet? That's fine, as long as you don't keep them waiting too long! And as long as you're honest. We're not like Shiketsu; we don't have rules prohibiting students from forming those kind of relationships with each other. So rest assured, my boy, if you do choose to accept this confession, I will support you one hundred percent!'

He twisted his hand into a fist, and then, his thumb sticking out like a spurt, slammed it into his chest. 'You can count on it!'

Izuku felt his lips twist, gladdened as he was at this pronouncement. 'Ah...' he said, stumbling towards a lounge chair, All Might in hot pursuit, which was strange. It was almost as if he was _eager_ for details about this confession, even though he probably had far more interesting things that he wanted to do. 'That's not...I'm sorry All Might, I'm just a little confused by it...the person who gave me this confession, it's not that I want to hurt them or mock their feelings, but I'm having trouble wrapping my head around the fact that they've done it in the first place!'

All Might's expression gentled almost immediately as he sat opposite Izuku, hand reaching for his abandoned coffee cup. 'You don't have to push yourself to accept someone else's feelings,' he said, a similar sort of softness now threaded into his tone. 'Nobody could fault you for that. If you don't want to-'

'No!' Izuku almost shouted out, feeling shame sweep over him at the thought that he had cut All Might of all people, off mid-sentence. 'You don't understand, All Might! The person who confessed to me! They-!'

 _I can't say Kacchan's name,_ he realised in a sudden rush of horror. _Even though I want to, no I need to! But I can't!_

'It's another guy!' he spurted out, freezing as he watched the realisation crash into All Might's face.

All Might, for his part stared at him, fingers still wrapped round the curved stem of his coffee cup handle.

'E-excuse me, my boy?' he finally choked out. But there was no tell-tell spurt of blood to accompany the words, so Izuku felt a little justified in slamming his hands more firmly down on the table and holding his mentor's startled look.

'I realise it's none of your concern,' he said, surprised at himself at just how firmly his words were coming out; he was blushing, yes, but he was still here and speaking about this, instead of fainting which meant something, _surely_. 'But...I was just wondering what your advice would be in this situation. The...guy who confessed to me, they're not someone I ever thought would care about this sort of thing, let alone _me._ '

And then suddenly, almost unbelievably, All Might's face smoothed out. Now he just looked exhausted.

'You are quite sure this is not a prank?' he asked sternly.

Izuku nodded furiously. 'Yes, he...'he trailed off, suddenly realising that whether he mentioned Kacchan or not, All Might probably would pick up on the events of this morning either way. The whole class had seen it happen, not to mention two UA teachers. And maybe they would keep it to themselves, but if they didn't...

Izuku folded his hand within his lap. 'It was Kacchan,' he said quietly, closing his eyes briefly as though to soften the blow. 'Maybe it's cowardly of me to give his name up like this, but he did in front of the class, in front of Aizawa and Midnight too. So I guess, if he isn't treating it like a secret, then I don't have to keep it as one.'

It felt good to say that, to push it out there, but he still glanced up at All Might for reassurance. 'He got me flowers,' he added pathetically, unsure how to read the blank look he was getting; true, his teacher's eyes were a little wider than usual, but that was _it_. 'Look!'

He yanked out his phone, and spun it round to display the bright bustle of yellow flowers he had carefully pushed onto his desk in his dorm room that morning. 'Kacchan's serious about this! There's no way he would do something like this as a prank! That's just not who he is!'

All Might lowered his cup to the table with a gentle clank. 'I agree,' he said softly. Then he tilted his head to one side, the line of his mouth dragged up alongside it into a half-smile. 'You set it as your wallpaper.'

Izuku flushed, realising that yes, the twenty-four hour clock emblazoned across the background denoted the fact that the flowers would now casually sit behind the host of apps he would be scrolling through later.

'W-well,' he muttered, dropping the phone back into his hands, and shifting his eyes down and away. 'They were nice, and Kacchan put such a lot of effort into arranging them...' he dared a glance back at All Might, flushing even more as he saw the level look he was being given in return. 'B-but that doesn't mean, um, I just, Kacchan doesn't _usually_ do nice things like that, especially not for me! And it's not that weird, right, putting it up as a wallpaper? I-I'm sorry.'

All Might chuckled and then jerked his palm under Izuku's chin, but gently, in order to give him no more than a sudden jolt. 'Don't drop your gaze, my boy! And don't apologise for decorating your phone as you wish!' Then he turned serious. 'But I think you need to examine how you're going to respond to young Bakugou's confession carefully. Things have been strained between you two for a long time now.'

Izuku grimaced. 'I know! And I just don't get what that idiot's thinking...'

All Might sighed. 'Like I said earlier, I think you need to be honest. But not just with Bakugou; with yourself too. It's clear you don't even know how to feel at this point.' He frowned and looked off to the side. 'You two have barely began to untangle your conflicting emotions regarding each other, and yet young Bakugo chose now of all times to place this burden on your shoulders! Though it certainly perhaps explains some things...'

Izuku stared at him, hope dwindling and confusion rising even more as All Might looked at him apologetically. 'I have no gift of great advice to give you, my boy. I have never been close enough to anyone to prompt such a confession towards myself...

Izuku felt a lump come to his throat at that, because All Might deserved all the world, and more! And that included a relationship!

'...but I am not surprised that you have managed to snare the attention of another in that. You have a magnetism that differs from my own.' All Might smiled at him, gentle again. 'Just don't let yourself be forced into anything you don't want: that is my advice to you.'

* * *

Izuku was always grateful for advice from All Might; he well and truly was! Still, he couldn't help but feel a little disgruntle as he sat on his bed that evening. He had managed, with an impressive mental effort, to scrawl some semblance of his homework out, and had even mustered the effort to double check it afterwards. It was far from his best work, but still passable, or so he thought.

Izuku sighed and slipped over onto his side. He hated that this situation with Kacchan had unsettled him, so much so that his work ethic had been affected. He resolved to get up and check it again, maybe even re-write it, right now, this very second!

But the constant ticking of the clock overhead put paid to that notion, as Izuku's body remained stubbornly slumped over. He curled into the covers and found himself pressing his cheek into the duvet more firmly, as his hand softly punched into the soft material. Why was he so unwilling to get up and face this? Push-ups, and a workout from hell, he could manage just fine. Kacchan saying he liked him? No, no, **no.**

 _Knock, knock, knock._

Three sharp taps at his door, and Izuku bit back a groan as he heaved himself upright.

 _It better not be Kacchan,_ he thought traitorously, as his eyes caught a glimpse of the flowers, still proudly bearing all of their unblemished yellow colours before the window.

He was pleasantly surprised, therefore, when he opened to the door to see Aoyama standing there, hand propped against his head at such an angle that the rest of his arm seemed to cut a sharp triangle out of the air itself.

'Ah! Mon amie!' He whooshed past Izuku so fast that Izuku could have sworn he had been born with a speed enhancing quirk. As it was, Izuku merely blinked at the vacant space Aoyama had left behind and wondered to himself at how he kept letting these things happen to him. 'Dépêchez-vous! We must talk in absolute privacy!'

Despite his better judgement, Izuku allowed the door to swing closed behind him as he turned, half tempted to lock it for good measure. He had a feeling something strange was going to come out of Aoyama's mouth.

'Aoyama-kun,' he said carefully, his arms crossed in front of him like a barrier. 'Is this about what happened at lunch this morning?'

Aoyama laughed, twirling on the spot to point vivaciously at Izuku as though, yes indeed, Izuku had won some sort of grand prize. ' _Très Bien!_ We simply must discuss your denial!'

Izuku very much wanted to sink down into the floor and slump there, like a puppet that had had its strings cut. Instead he wobbled his way over to Aoyama.

'No!' he shoved the word out of his mouth urgently, his hand coming up to claw at the air, and then upon seeing the unmoved smile on Aoyama's face, felt frustration rapidly leak in. 'There is no denial or c-c-crush!' he sputtered. 'What you did, when you threw flowers down in front of Kacchan...! I'm sure you thought you were helping in some way...'

 _Though I don't know how_ , his brain proceeded to howl as he trailed off. He swallowed, and took a breath before spitting out his next words. 'But it just looked...crazy!'

Aoyama propped his cheeks between both his hands, a twinkle in his eyes and Izuku wanted to _die_.

'Non! Au contrite! The crazy one is you!' He tilted his head to the side. 'Ah, poor Uraraka -san...'

Izuku blinked. What on earth had Uraraka got to do with any of this? But Aoyama simply shook his head and carried on as though he had never said anything strange. 'Midoriya-kun! Sometimes when you fight, or when you consider how to move, you wonder what Bakugo would do, yes?'

Izuku frowned. 'Yes,' he admitted readily, a hint of caution in his voice. 'But that doesn't mean I have a crush on him!'

Aoyama was waggling his finger at him, close enough for the offending digit to almost bop him on the nose. Izuku wrinkled said nose and took a step back.

'You emulate him when the villians first attacked our school, yelling his unrefined 'die' when you launch yourself from a ship at them-'

Okay, thought Izuku a little annoyed. He didn't exactly _want_ to have words with Tsuyru and Mineta, and maybe he didn't have the right too, but did they really have to go blabbing about every single little thing he did that day?

'-you come back from our internship, with the exact same move-set as him, and, **_ah!_** I thought I was seeing double that day! You were like a muscle mimic!'

Aoyama gave Izuku a look, not particularly a deep or searching one, but nevertheless, something about it sent a quick tremor through Izuku down to his toes. 'There is a saying in the English language that I feel most adapt for this situation: imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. When we hold someone so deeply in our hearts, we wish to be like them every step of the way. And we push them up, so high on a pedestal, that we find ourselves copying the pieces of them we them we can glean for ourselves, just so we can reach their level.' Aoyama pauses to wipe a tear from his eye. 'Beautiful .'

With an odd surge of horror, Izuku realised that Aoyama was praising himself for his flowery language. Still though...

'I'm not...' he tried, trailing off with a nervous laugh. 'Kacchan called me a stalker, and I know I come off as creepy with my observations and note-taking, but Kacchan's so, so amazing that it makes sense that I would try and copy him the most!'

He looked down, hand wrapped up within his t-shirt, hugging it tight within the clench of his fingers above his heart. Because he's **not**...he doesn't...

' _Amazing,_ ' Aoyama practically whispered the word, a soft awe injected into it in a way Izuku hadn't really heard from him before. ' _Cool._ You say these things about him often enough, as though you have no filter; even though, I think perhaps you would be embarrassed to gush about the other males in our class so readily, despite the compliments you so willingly throw out to them.'

Izuku stared up at him, eyes wide, as his hand left his T-shirt to crawl over his mouth.

'And you think of him,' Aoyama continued, 'when you can't think of a solution to a problem yourself. You turn to him for an answer, even if you're incapable of asking him any kind of question.' Aoyama started to stroll off towards the door, leaving Izuku aghast. 'I'm used to seeing crushes take on this sort of shape. I just believe you'd be happier, mon amie, if you could admit to yourself what exactly that shape truly is.'

He didn't turn round to fix Izuku with a knowing glance, didn't linger or strike a pose. Simply turned the door handle and smoothly walked away leaving Izuku feeling ship-wrecked.

* * *

Izuku's mind whirled that night. He didn't re-check his homework, mind too full of every glare, every glance Kacchan had ever sent him. Every turned back and sullen look directed away from him, as though Izuku was doomed to falter and turn away instead. And that bright, heated gleam of determination Izuku felt in return, that pang that said _no, I deserve to be seen!_

He had never wanted Kacchan's hatred. Never invited his scorn. And there had been times, where he was content not to press Kacchan, to just let their old friendship lie in the dust, half-forgotten, so long as Kacchan left him alone. And yet...and yet...

Izuku closed his eyes. Tried to picture Kacchan smiling at him. And couldn't. Grinning? Maybe. Then, though he half-recoiled at the thought, he tried to picture Kacchan leaning in closer, not to intimidate him, but to kiss, to pant against his ear, the way girls in the porn he had sometimes seen did.

Izuku's eyes shot open, frightened at the way his imagination had caught hold of the exact hue of Kacchan's hair, and the shade of his face as it fell into shadow above his own. Not to mention the tangled knot formed in his guts as Kacchan's eyes lowered, scarlet sparks running through them to set them alight with glee like the way they fought, that made something in Izuku excited to see.

Izuku raised his hand to his mouth and bit down on his finger, almost casually. But no. The image swum behind his eyes, a little like the daydreams of Uraraka did, but now more prominent, surrounded by that conflicting surge of emotions he had held towards Kacchan for the past decade or so.

Well, he thought glumly. He supposed he could add lust to that list now too.

It was weird. Izuku didn't consider himself...he had never sought out gay porn or erotica. But Kacchan...Izuku knew, that on a primal level he would do practically anything for Kacchan. He had just never bothered to sit down and sort through his emotions logically in order to find out how deep the thread ran. But then that thread had been building up, had been added to, since he was four. So why would Izuku bother to ask himself if those feelings had developed into something that would never dance and tantalise the devotion of a child? Especially if he had taken them for granted and decided they would always be there, rooted inside his very being like stone?

He felt like swearing. Because it wasn't fair! How had Kacchan managed to beat him at this realisation too!

Izuku turned to stare at the blue shadow of his wall. All Might's face swum overhead, the confident grin seeming to proclaim his trademark 'I am here' sentiment, that everything would be alright under the shadowed brow he threw out against the world.

Izuku's fist clenched. He guessed that much like those days, the sentiment was over too. No, now Izuku would have to make things 'alright' himself.

* * *

 **Notes:** The fact that I recently learnt (thanks to wikipedia) that yellow tulips in Hanakotoba, the Japanese language of flowers, mean 'One-Sided Love' is...well. It makes last chapter unintentionally hilarious.


	3. The Icy-Hot Barrier

Izuku was a jangle of nerves that morning when he woke up. Filled with an empty hole in his mind that screamed, dark and black, inside him, he clambered out of bed, practically threw on his clothes, and raced out into the corridor to the kitchen. He had a pressing urge to hunt down Kacchan and scream in his face, but luckily the higher functions of his brains were still working, (albeit feebly), so he made straight for the packages of instant miso soup someone in the dormitory had been kind enough to buy in bulk instead, and began to heat up the water in the kettle.

'Whoa, Midoriya, are you okay?'

Izuku blinked, blearily-eyed, and turned, realising that the flashes of red he had been accosted by when he whooshed into the kitchen, were now rearranging themselves into two distinct shapes, one round and sheared in half by white, and the other jutting out into a range of spikes.

'Ah...' he said unhelpfully like an idiot. 'Kirishima-kun! And Todoroki-kun! Ah! That was so rude of me to rush in like that without saying hello! I'm sorry! And good morning!'

Kirishima raised a hand with a wry grin, his other one wrapped round a cup of warm milk. 'Come on, relax! It's well, it's kinda understandable given everything that's happened, it's just...'

'You are starting to resemble Ashino Mina,' Todoroki broke in with his usual placid expression, thoroughly ignoring the annoyed look Kirishima was throwing him. 'Would you like some sleeping pills? I have a supply handy. Only two per night is the recommended dosage.'

Izuku blinked at him in surprise, perhaps for a moment too long because, Kirishima waved gently at him to get his attention again and then, with a bashful smile, motioned to his eyes and drew a brief circle round one of them with a finger.

Izuku gasped and spun back round to inspect his bloated reflection within the silver gleam of the kettle. 'I look awful,' he concluded, as he noted the pale, practically purple rings round his eyes. He closed his eyes, feeling his lips twitch slightly as he heard Kirishima hiss a quick, 'dude? Maybe use a little more tact next time?' to Todoroki.

'Why?' he heard Todoroki say bluntly back, with no hint of a whisper to his tone. 'It's more tactful than what Bakugou would say. He would probably call Midoriya 'Racoon Eyes 2.0' to his face.'

There was a sting of actual venom to his last sentence, making it emerge as a growl, enough of one to force Izuku to open his eyes and spin back round to witness the awkward look on Kirishima's face.

'Dude,' he said lowly. 'Not in front of Midoriya, come on...'

'No,' Izuku broke in firmly, switching the kettle off before it could pour out a mood-shattering whistle. 'It's alright. What happened yesterday was pretty surprising. And I'm sure lots of people are talking about it.' He crossed his arms firmly. 'I don't know if I should tell you this before Kacchan; but then he didn't give _me_ any warning before he shoved those flowers at me, so maybe I shouldn't feel too guilty, and Kirishima-kun _is_ pretty close with Kacchan, so maybe he can give some good advice but...' he trailed off noting that both boys were looked at him with slight concern. Kirishima in particular, had direct panic on his face. He took a breath. 'I've decided to say 'yes' to Kacchan's proposal. It's only one date after all; and he implied I could do whatever I wanted afterwards. And this way, I feel like I've given him a fair chance.'

He nodded decisively and then flushed, realising he'd brought his hand up towards his face and formed it into a fist, as though to make a declaration of war. The embarrassment didn't really abate though, upon seeing Kirishima stare at him with stars in his eyes.

'Damn it!' the spiky-haired boy choked out, thumping his fist against the table. 'You're so manly, Midoriya!'

'No, he's crazy,' Todoroki interjected, with no less feeling in his voice, only it came out at a much lower volume, almost hushed, with a quiet, intense anger behind it. 'Why do this sort of thing to yourself, Midoriya? Bakugou has never been fair to you – I know you're childhood friends, but being kind to someone because of it has its limits.'

Izuku frowned as Kirishima lowered his hand and looked at Todoroki with outright dismay. This was part of why he decided to offer his answer out loud to both of them. Kirishima was biased, yes, but if he thought Izuku's acceptance would hurt either Kacchan or himself, he would have voiced his disapproval and explained why he thought Kacchan should...move on or whatever. Todoroki however, would have a much more balanced view of the situation. He was far from Kacchan's friend, but he respected him and wasn't above teasing him with a well-chosen one-liner from time to time.

'Bakugou's trying, man,' Kirishima said, his voice taking on a harried, urgent tone as he gestured with his arm, leaning forward into Todoroki's space. 'He's not good at showing it, but he cares about Midoriya, seriously. You think I didn't grill him about what happened yesterday? Of course I did! Enough to know that this isn't some sort of mean-spirited joke!'

'Exactly,' said Todoroki, eyes narrowing in a glare that simmered and spoke volumes. 'It's not a joke. Or do you seriously expect me to believe that Bakugou isn't going to treat Midoriya with the same volatility as he's always done?'

'He's better!' Kirishima burst out with, his hands clenched, looking like he was close to throwing himself in Todoroki's face.

'Better doesn't mean 'acceptable,' Todoroki said primly. 'You know what I saw yesterday? I saw an arrogant person try to buy the affections of another like they were making a transaction; like Midoriya was someone who could be brought.'

Kirishima looked confused, but Midoriya felt a chill travel up and rattle down his spine. Todoroki was wearing and using that same grim look and voice he had used months back, the very same ones Izuku could remember reverberating down the grey shadowed stretch of a stadium corridor as they poured out his family history and revealed the way his father had 'purchased' his mother and steam-rolled her into a traditional 'quirk marriage' – or so it had been insinuated. Bile rose up at him at the thought that the other boy was implying that there was a parallel here.

A thud quickly brought him back to the present day, and Izuku let out a slight gasp as he saw Kacchan's fist land on the wall again, directly outside the kitchen doorway.

'You...' Kacchan grit out, pure venom in his tone, before he charged in, the blaze in his eyes, for once, not reserved for Izuku. 'COMPLETE BASTARD!' He wrestled Todoroki up from his position, his hand clawing into the other boy's shirt as the expression on his face twisted in on itself. 'IF YOU THINK FOR ONE SECOND, THAT I WOULD EVER FUCK OVER DEKU THE WAY YOUR SHITTY OLD MAN SHAT ALL OVER YOUR MOM THEN-'

'KACCHAN!' Izuku roared, arm streaking through the air to seize the wrist that was shaking above the handful of Todoroki's shirt. Never mind the fact that Kirishima was also there, his hand forming a ring around Kacchan's other arm to touch his shoulder in a careful, 'settle-down' kind of way. 'ENOUGH!'

Izuku didn't know how Kacchan knew about the state of Todoroki's parents' marriage and right now, he didn't care. Throwing it out there, when Todoroki didn't directly mention it, was a low blow.

Kacchan's head snapped round, fist still tightening reflexively in Todoroki's shirt and his eyes raged against Izuku, his mouth taunt and furious and...

Izuku recognised hurt when he saw it on Kacchan. But even so...

'Stop it,' he said, low and firm, gaze unflinching. For something like this, there was no room in him to tremble and quake, not the way he had in his days pre U.A.

And then, miracle of miracles, Kacchan's hand relaxed. He dragged it away from Todoroki with a show of disgust, shaking off Izuku and Kirishima's hold as he did so.

'What the fuck ever,' he spat. Then he shot Izuku a look still brimming with rage. 'Is that what you think, huh, shitty nerd? That I'm after you for your quirk? That I get my jollies from trying to kick down somebody after I've kissed them, beating them black and blue?'

Izuku gave him a steady look, ignoring poor Kirishima gawping at them all. 'I've talked to Endeavour before, Kacchan; he wanted to beat All Might and become Number One almost as badly as you want the position for yourself. But I've never seen a hint of that same passion in him that I see in you. I've looked him dead in the eye; and nothing I've ever seen in yours stared back. Not even back when you hated me.'

He turned to Todoroki, not wanting to linger too long on the complicated twist of emotion he had probably provoked in Kacchan. He didn't want to drag the other boy's mother into it but...

'Kacchan isn't him, Todoroki-kun,' he said softly. 'And I'm not her. I can fight back.' He added a soft smile to accompany his next words. 'I appreciate the concern though.' Then he tilted his head to the side, mostly because Todoroki was giving him that small, almost lost look that Izuku had always been weak against, no matter who was sending it his way. 'Besides: since when have I ever not sent a punch Kacchan's way, when he gives one to me?'

Todoroki swallowed and looked away. 'My apologies,' he said stiffly. 'You...you are right. You would know better than I what you are able to handle.'

Izuku smiled weakly at that. Truthfully, he didn't think anyone could handle Kacchan...But that didn't mean he shouldn't try.

He turned back to Kacchan, who was staring at him and Todoroki, still tense and with his shoulders squared, but now, Izuku noted thankfully, his hands had also loosened, the fingers only half-way transformed into fists.

'K-kacchan,' Izuku squeaked, hating how all his previous confidence seemed to be shot, blown to the wind. He gulped, took a step closer.

Kacchan's hands flexed.

'I-I, you said one date, r-r-right?' Izuku sputtered. _Why,_ he wailed within his own head, anguish spilling over inside his mind. _Why was he so bad at this?_

Kacchan stared at him a moment more. Then, brilliant and wild, his familiar smirk suddenly burst into being. 'Your memory going already, Deku?' he taunted. 'Received too many hits to your head? I can add a few more, maybe help to kick-start whatever sorry excuse for a brain you have left.'

Todoroki promptly rolled his eyes up to the ceiling as if to say _see?_ **SEE!**

Izuku ignored him.

'No, thank you, Kacchan,' he said, feeling a little firmer. 'And I don't really want to be hit on our date either.'

Kacchan stiffened. Izuku took that as a good sign and stepped closer.

'You said I could go do 'whatever' afterwards, right? Well...I'll hold you to it.' He tilted his chin up, fingers nervously playing and tangling with each other, picking at the air as though they couldn't bring themselves to stop. 'You always want to win, to be the best. So let's see how well you do at this.' Izuku felt his smile turn crooked, a strange surge of determination welling up inside. 'Prove Todoroki wrong.'

Kacchan stared at him some more, and then, as though someone had flipped a switch, his mouth curled, reveal a cruel curve of white, glinting teeth, knife-bright under the kitchen light.

'Alright, nerd, you're on.' He spoke, low and heated, every ounce of him focused on Izuku. 'I'll make Icy-Hot eat his fucking words. I'll be the undisputed number one at this too!'

How? thought Izuku dazed; honestly Kacchan was really...something when he got worked up like this. Scary, yes, but _something,_ all the same. Izuku wanted to run away and stay locked in place all at the same time.

Still though, how someone could be number one at dating was something he couldn't really wrap his head round-

'I'll,' growled out Kacchan, practically ramming his finger at Izuku's nose. 'Be the best goddamn boyfriend on this entire shitty planet! I'll make you acknowledge it, Deku! Brace yourself! I'll fucking run you down with how awesome I am, starting at five this Saturday. A. M!'

Izuku blinked. But couldn't quite stop his lips from twitching. '...Alright Kacchan.'

* * *

Alright? Alright! How can it be alright? Those were the looks he was given as the news spread like wildfire. Turned out, Kacchan didn't care who knew, as long as Izuku didn't suddenly back out and say 'no.'

'Go to bed!' he would bark out every night. 'I'm not having you flop over like a dead fish on our date because you were too tired muttering to yourself about useless crap! I want an eye-sore of a Deku there, not a mind-dead zombie that I'll have to send back to the grave myself!'

'What a sweet-talker,' Kamirami muttered one time, ducking behind the sofa as Kacchan aimed a clawed hand his way with a roar.

'IF YOU'VE GOT SOMETHING TO SAY, THEN SAY IT! NONE OF THIS MUTTERING CRAP!'

Izuku simply nodded and accepted some of the sleeping pills Todoroki slipped him casually.

'Good luck,' his friend muttered, eying Kacchan with a world-weary air. 'You'll need it.'

'Are you sure, Deku?' Uraraka would ask him, a nervous look in her eye. 'I just...you know yourself the best but I never thought...'

And Izuku would smile at her kindly. 'It's not like I'm getting married,' he said with as much cheer as he could muster. 'N-nothing might come of it.'

Kacchan aimed him a baleful glare at that.

'Don't get too cocky, Deku. I'll sweep your feet from under you so hard, you'll be begging for mercy.'

Was that Kacchan's less than poetic way of saying he'd sweep Izuku off his feet? Izuku tried not to think too hard about it. Kacchan's hyperboles were both annoying and stupidly childish, enough to be vaguely amusing sometimes. Honestly, at this stage in their relationship, there was almost a quaint charm to hearing them.

Still, Izuku was actually getting some sleep now. He was more relaxed, less stressed. Perhaps it was because the option of saying 'no' was still there, after the date and he would never have to pursue this strange jumble of feelings in his chest if he found everything, Kacchan included, to be too much for him.

And quite frankly, he often did.

Still, the most important thing was doing what felt right, right? All Might had insinuated as much. And this? Seeing Kacchan lose his shit, and still own the fact that he wanted to date Izuku, without shame, without guile, without denial?

It felt oddly and perfectly right.

* * *

Four-thirty A.M on a Saturday rolled round. Izuku had dressed and undressed, rolled out five different layers of plaid and sweater vests in a fretful whirlwind, and had even brushed his teeth three times.

Because what if Kacchan wanted to kiss him? What if he had bad breath?

But no. He was getting ahead of himself.

Eventually he settled on something casual, but still neater than a simple T-shirt; knowing Kacchan, he was going to be dragged into something that required movement in a physical competition, and Izuku didn't want anything to hold him back if that was the case.

Izuku shook his head and laughed, rolling up the sleeve of the green chequered shirt he had finally settled on, one that was loose and comfortable and slightly frayed at the ends, enough for the pattern to fade into greyish diamond cuts. He looked slightly dressed up, but it was still a shirt that had seen better days and one he wouldn't be too upset to see tear or charred to a crisp. Shrugging, he pulled down the sleeve which had 'plaid & tartan' scrawled into the cuff and glanced back at the note Kacchan had abruptly shoved into his chest yesterday afternoon as they were leaving class.

 _Wear layers,_ it spat out. _Bring sunscreen. Sunglasses, if your nerd ass is cool enough to own any. 2 litres of water. Hiking boots. Who am I kidding, you'll wear the same red shit you always do_.

Which all led Izuku to the obvious conclusion that a date with Kacchan was not a normal affair. Which meant no casual wander around an aquarium, and no squirming inside a darkened cinema seat. Izuku felt his lips curl at the thought, a welcome respite from the panic that was threatening to overtake him, and shook his head as he shrugged on a brown cardigan, taking comfort in the way he could bury his hands in the sleeves. Honestly, since when did he trust anything with Kacchan to be normal?

Because the fact that Kacchan wanted them to leave at five and had written hiking boots down on his list of demands, meant that well...

Kacchan was definitely going to force Izuku up a mountain somewhere. Which probably meant they were catching a bullet train and then racing each other to the top.

Izuku smiled again. Any other person, and he would have felt disappointed. But as it was, the thought of competing with Kacchan, even on something that was supposed to be a date, just made anticipation well up in his stomach.

...His stomach that was currently attempting sumersaults at that moment in time.

Izuku wrapped an arm round his middle, a case of the shivers rattling him from head to toe, before his eyes bulged as three sharps taps landed hot and heavy on his door.

'Get your nerd ass out here and stop freaking out,' growled a very familiar voice - but at a considerate level, low enough not to wake up anybody else.

Izuku stumbled over to the door and opened it, knowing he probably looked like a sweaty mad-man as he gawped openly at Kacchan. Who looked good, he always did, but with the added effect of going on a date with him...well, it just meant Izuku looked closer. Dark colours, loose, comfortable, with a waterproof jacket lying heavy and open over his shirt and sweater, the lapels somehow cut in a way that failed to be either clunky or dorky, the way Izuku's surely was, stuffed inside his rucksack.

Izuku took a moment to feel disappointed at the fact that Kacchan wasn't that dressed up; had either one of them been a girl, he would have expected a dress, or some nice frilly shirt over well, those tasteful short-shorts girls seemed to pull off so well.

But nope, here they were, gearing up for dirt and pain.

...It figured that their date would end up being something that solely Kacchan would want to do. Not that Izuku had anything against mountain-hiking, it was just more of Kacchan's thing than his.

'Quit staring,' Kacchan spat out, though he was looking particularly pleased as he said it, amusement sparking low and hungrily in his eyes as he gave Izuku a once over, which caused the shivers to flee Izuku's shaking frame and convert him into a statue. Ram-rod, he stood straight and true, his spine feeling hard and straight, too straight, as he took in the wandering trail Kacchan's eyes seemed to scorch over his skin. No! His clothes! His clothes! There was no skin on show here, none at all! Well except for on his hands and face, but he couldn't exactly cover those up, and nor did he want to, really-

His mouth snapped shut, the ramble of words dying in his throat as Kacchan's fingers snapped into his chin like a vice, nothing gentle about their touch, no, not at all.

'Deku,' he growled out. 'Shut up.'

Izuku wanted to die. He hated his mouth sometimes and the way it spat out words that would sometimes be better left inside his head.

'I'm not gonna fuck you up yet,' Kacchan continued. 'So quit worrying.' He scoffed and tore his fingers away, something flashing through his eyes so quickly that Izuku didn't have time to fully take it in and analyse it. 'Let's get going before the rest of the vultures in this corridor wake up and start circling us.'

Izuku sputtered. 'V-vultures!' And yet he obediently followed Kacchan, tugging on his rucksack and turning to lock his door with no hint of a protest, even if Kacchan was already walking away, back starting to dwindle in Izuku's vision, like always. Like it had been doing for years. 'Kacchan! Wait up!'

Kacchan spun round, his face a mask of fury. 'Shut up! What did I just freaking say!?'

Izuku frowned, his heart warming slightly as Kacchan continued to linger there with a frightening expression, like a demon guarding the gates to Hell. He could rarely, if ever, remember a time when Kacchan waited for him to catch up.

'Sorry,' he said hastily, more for the benefit of the still-sleeping, rather than for Kacchan himself. 'But seriously, Kacchan, we don't have to leave early. It's not six yet.'

Kacchan snorted and started up his strides again. 'Idiot. The first thing these fucking morons will do is gape at us and wave us off like some family gathering or some shit. I don't wanna deal with that or with you breaking out into hives over all the extra, annoying attention. You've probably been up since three, getting yourself keyed up over nothing. Better we leave now, and they can poke their heads out at six and die of depression over not getting what they think is a comedy sketch or whatever.'

Izuku frowned. 'That's mean,' he said quietly as they waited for the lift to open. 'Come on, Kacchan; they're not like that. Everybody wants the best for us.'

Kacchan's gaze blackened as he jabbed the lift button again with a little too much force – enough that Izuku felt grateful the panel of buttons didn't crack under it.

'Like Icy-Hot you mean?'

Izuku's mouth snapped shut at that.

Kacchan send him a glowering look. 'Die,' he snarled out softly. 'If you agree with him, then you might as take your ass out of this lift and-'

'You're really giving up that easily?' the question shot out of Izuku's mouth before he could stop it and really, he wasn't sure he wanted too. Anyway it was out and making Kacchan's face freeze in fury, so Izuku squared his shoulders and dug his fingers into the rucksack straps hugging his arms, before giving them a firm squeeze. 'I asked you to prove Todoroki-kun wrong, and he was wrong to compare you to his Dad, yes. But the reason behind his comparison...it wasn't all wrong, Kacchan. You must know that.'

The lift doors pinged opened and they stared at each other. For a moment, Izuku thought Kacchan would stride inside and barricade himself off with a few pops of orange heat from between the gaps of the curved cage his fingers would rearrange themselves into.

'Haaaaah?' he would shove at Izuku, that old contempt in his tone. 'Get lost Deku; I don't need the pity of an extra.'

But the seconds passed without Izuku's imagination suddenly transforming into reality, and when the lift doors began to close, Kacchan's arm suddenly struck out with the fury of a viper, his palm landing thick and heavy against the silvery rim with a small slap of noise. The door instantly retreated. But it did nothing to prevent Izuku flinching at the suddenness, his fingers turning white around his rucksack stripes.

'I will probably want to fuck you at some point, if I manage not to murder you dead, Deku,' said Kacchan firmly, his voice dipping into that hushed listen-closely-or-I-will-kill-you tone. Which surprisingly, didn't do wonders for Izuku's nerves. 'I've fucked with you for years; but you've fucked me up good in return this last year.' Kacchan paused to offer the ceiling a contemptuous look. 'Be proud, nerd. You're managed to do more messed up shit to me than any villain ever could.'

Izuku opened his mouth. _That's really sad that you think that way Kacchan_ , he wanted to say. _Liking someone shouldn't be like that._

Kacchan's palm left the lift doors and he walked inside, turning round to slam his back against the wall, his eyes live coals under his brows and somehow, the heat in them, caused the words in Izuku's mind to die.

'Deku,' he said again as Izuku shut his mouth. 'You can get in here with me, or run away. Now make up your mind, nerd.'

If Izuku had been anyone else, no, if it had been _anyone_ _else_ _ **but**_ Kacchan standing there, looking at him solidly, an unapologetic look on their face, he would have told them...something. Maybe even walked away. As it was, he slid one red shoe across the dark metal line, dividing the lift from the floor, and meeting Kacchan's eyes, dragged the other across after it.

Kacchan sniffed. But the relief in his eyes spoke volumes.

* * *

 **Notes:** Todoroki seems cool with Bakugou in canon mostly, so maybe he's a little out of character here...on the other hand, his Mom's treatment at his Dad's hands is a subject near and dear to his heart, and imagining how the dynamic of Izuku and Katsuki's relationship might work if it turned romantic might certainly give him room to pause.


	4. Up The Mountain They Go

Navigating the subway stations were second nature to them, and Izuku only experienced a brief flare of panic at the Shinkansen station, coming up to the ticket gate, before Kacchan offered him a scornful look and shoved a small green train ticket at him.

Izuku was about to stutter something at him, when Kacchan hissed, 'I planned out everything, so I paid up-front, got it? I don't want a refund, especially not from you.'

Well then, thought Izuku, though he found it hard to fight down the irrational surge of guilt he now felt as he sunk into the reserved seat on the carriage. The next second he jumped as with a soft but firm thwack, Kacchan deposited a medium-sized tupperwear box on his lap.

Izuku blinked at him, but Kacchan had already turned away, eyes gazing out the window as though the dull grey infrastructure of the station outside held the beauty of a painting you could find at an art gallery. His arm rested along the slant of the window sill, boredom thoroughly radiating out of his body posture, so Izuku turned back to the box nervously. Carefully, he propped open the lid to see that it contained a soft chicken tempura, grilled and sliced across a bed of chilled rice and soy beans. Tiny scattered flakes of red pepper doused the meat and breadcrumbs and, after Izuku took up the chopsticks Kacchan had neatly wrapped up with a white ribbon and deposited carefully over the food, he found they tasted as sweet as fruit. To the extent that he almost had tears rolling down his face as he shoved more of the food into his mouth, sniffing as the juice of the pepper burst and stained his tongue, blending into the flakes of chicken and panko crumbs his teeth were busy grinding up.

Kacchan pulled his gaze away from the station outside to spear him with a look of abject disgust.

'I made that for you to eat, not to get snot all over!'

But all Izuku could do was look back at him with such a look of fondness, of sheer, unadulterated worship, that Kacchan's face twisted into an even worse scowl.

'T-t-thank you! It's delicious, Kacchan!'

Kacchan snorted. 'Of course it is!' And then he turned back to the window, the faintest line of pink taking up residence along the back of his neck.

Izuku smiled and hungrily inhaled the rest of the meal.

'Have you had breakfast Kacchan?' he asked. 'I mean; we both need energy for today, right?'

Kacchan gave him an appraising look. 'I already ate, when I was making the finishing touches to that-' he nodded to the now empty container now resting in Izuku's hands – 'and the other shit I made.' He nodded over to his own backpack, some dark black thing, which didn't look half as scruffy as Izuku's beloved yellow rucksack and which, Izuku could now detect, housed odd corners and oblongs that spoke of other Tupperware containers housed within.

Izuku carefully pressed the welling of emotion he felt deep within his heart back down. How long had Kacchan spent preparing for this?

'Wow, that's amazing.' He smiled broadly, trying not to fidget too much under Kacchan's gaze which was sharp enough to sear him through. 'Most people go to restaurants, or burger, or ramen stands on dates; I get Kacchan's home-cooked food. I feel...lucky.'

'As you should,' Kacchan responded without missing a beat. 'Besides, shoving you into a fancy restaurant would make you panic like a pathetic loser and you'd spend all your time there trying to act like you're not one. I don't really want to be on a date with someone whose teeth won't stop chattering because he keeps knocking over his glass of water.'

Izuku's smile widened, only to falter slightly as he felt Kacchan's fingers hook round his shoulder, swiftly tightening like a noose. Because that same hand had clamped down on that shoulder years before, all in order to give it a light burn and to make his middle school uniform sizzle like a fish in a pan; and he could always remember spending a few too many minutes of his life at home trying to awkwardly ward off the scent of Kacchan's nitroglycerin-like sweat afterwards with air-fresheners and scent diffusers before ultimately tossing it into his laundry hamper as a lost cause. His mom had never questioned him about it though, not once, even if her lips had thinned slightly each and every time, and for that Izuku was thankful.

It was different now, he told himself. Kacchan was...older. And he hadn't burnt any parts or pieces of Izuku's clothes in over a year.

Still, he struggled to hold back a yelp as Kacchan's hand gave him an abrupt jerk, and a second later, Izuku lay wide-eyed against the side of Kacchan's chest, hardly daring to breathe as his hair meshed against the harsh spikes of Kacchan's own. He could feel the brash, warm shoulder beneath him, Kacchan's shoulder, providing the firmest pillow for his face that he had ever felt.

'Go to sleep before I have to knock you out,' Kacchan commanded, a softer bite to his voice than there usually was. 'You're still tired; I could see you turning to hide your obnoxious yawns at least four times before we got here.'

Izuku stiffened even more at this confirmation that yes, Kacchan, did pay attention to him, the way he would have to someone who caught his interest, enough to harden it into a crush.

Still. Going to sleep on Kacchan...it kind of felt like going to sleep on a divided wire, the shorn tangle of its insides still exposed and sparking wildly.

'T-there are other people in the carriage with us,' Izuku murmured, not wanting to disturb this strange, soft side of Kacchan that he had sometimes suspected still existed in his more wistful moments, but was not yet comfortable enough to trust that it actually did.

'I don't care,' Kacchan bit out.

Izuku tried not to read this as a silent affirmation that this meant Kacchan cared about him instead, but it was hard. What was even harder was ignoring all the social obligation Izuku felt pressuring him to rear back and offend Kacchan, just so no one would give them the stink-eye.

Kacchan snorted as though reading his mind. 'Who cares what they think; I certainly don't, and given that you're on a date with _me_ , I'm the one whose feelings you should be oh-so-considerate of.'

His hands smoothed out over Izuku's shoulder, fingers splaying out into something that wasn't quite a stroke.

'I won't hit you if you want pull similar shit to this as well,' he added, though the words took on a distinct mumble this time, as though he had to force them out.

Izuku's breath almost stopped. Kacchan was being far more brave in regard to this kind of thing than Izuku had ever suspected he was capable of.

'Okay,' he muttered back, the surge of courage almost costing him a panic attack as he felt Kacchan's breath coast the side of his face.

A moment later:

'Oi nerd, I don't see you shutting those weedy eyes of yours.'

Izuku obediently fastened his shut.

* * *

The train journey had been a disjointed affair; Izuku dozed off a couple of times, even, remembered mumbling one time, as his defences tumbled down a little too fast, much quicker than they probably should have, a 'nice Kacchan.' Like Kacchan was a pet or something.

But there was no heavy slam to the jaw, no cruel singe to his shoulder as an unfriendly palm slammed down to leave an unfavourable impression. Just a snort and a small jolt as he shoved off back into the reclining curve of the seat.

'Should be the other way round, stupid nerd,' he thought he heard Kacchan mumble or mutter, less than a metre away, so much closer than Izuku had ever expected they would be again.

But honestly, given that he was half-way into dreamland at that point, Izuku felt it wiser to discount that entirely. No point in getting his perception even more clouded than it already was.

* * *

Izuku woke with a jolt later, a cruel pinch to his nose holding him hostage as Kacchan leered down at him, from the curve to his mouth, to his unveiled teeth, just as mean.

'Ready for me to beat you into the ground, Deku?'

Izuku sputtered and wrenched Kacchan's hand away – or tried to as the fingers left his nose and escaped his half-hearted swot with ease. Still, he followed Kacchan off the train into Kawaguchiko station with only the barest amount of grumbling.

'We're going to Mount Fuji, aren't we?' he asked.

Kacchan grinned at him a menacing light in his eyes. 'Took you long enough.'

Izuku took the time to wonder how many times Kacchan might have made this trek before in his life. And unbidden, the old saying rose in his mind _: He who climbs Mt_. _Fuji_ _is a wise man; he who climbs twice is a fool._

Izuku's lips thinned.

Kacchan noticed and he instantly bristled.

'Oi, what's that high and mighty look for?'

Izuku looked at him, at the flare of rage in his eyes, at the weird way the light danced over his hair, creating small light-tipped _mountain_ peaks out of the bush littering his scalp. It was hard to choke back his laughter, but he managed. And then, daringly he pushed himself forward and wrapped his arm round Kacchan's, trying not to feel the burn of the stare of a nearby salary-man as it rested against their heads.

Kacchan's eyes widened, the surprise in them both strange and gratifying to witness. The next second something angry was back in his eyes again as his head swivelled and gave the salary-man a look of such poison that there was a small 'eep' and the rustle of a newspaper quickly denoted the sound of a shield being raised, all to hide the stranger's face from Kacchan's.

Kacchan shrugged and pulled Izuku along.

'You better not make me trip, or you're dead,' he threatened.

Izuku allowed his arm to tighten for a second, before he let Kacchan sweep him away, back into his own pace; a rhythm Izuku was only too happy to keep following.

* * *

It continued to be like that all the way up the mountain; Izuku was only vaguely surprised that Kacchan didn't want them to start at the bottom and work their way up, hard-core hiker style. Instead he grunted and practically shoved Izuku towards the nearest shuttle bus stop.

'We're going to the fifth station,' he said shortly. 'The most popular one where all the tourists and foreigners overcrowd everything; should make your nerd ass happy. You can get a keychain with All Might stomping the mountain flat or something.'

His face froze briefly and Izuku bit his lip; because Kacchan was a feverous All Might fan, just as much as he was, and it couldn't have escaped his notice that gradually, over the weeks, that All Might merchandise was starting to be scaled back, diminished, as though to reflect the newly retired status of the former hero. Or perhaps the various companies worried that a near- skeletal All Might wouldn't make cut as charming a figure on their tea-towels and whatever else they wished to stamp his face across.

Izuku was snapped out of his thoughts by a sharp pinch to his cheek, and a heavy scowl resting on Kacchan's face was there to greet him as he stared at the other.

'What's that shitty face for? You gonna start crying, haaaah?' Kacchan snorted and retracted his hand with a drawn-out twang, as though Izuku's cheek was made out of rubber or elastic. 'Not on my date, you're not, shitty nerd. The only tears to come spilling out of you are gonna be happy ones, got it?'

Izuku felt a laugh bubble out of him and tried to clamp it down. But it betrayed him, rose out of his mouth in a heavy breath that rolled and fluttered out into a sound that made Kacchan's scowl tighten. Izuku instantly panicked, his hand rearing up to clamp over his own mouth, before it was stopped, caught by the vice of Kacchan's fingers...which only made Izuku panic more, and he reared back, ready to tug out of Kacchan's grip, or try to, an apology rearing up from his throat in a desperate burst of sound.

'I'm sor-'

'Am I punching you, Deku?' Kacchan questioned, his frown still tight and heavy. 'No? Then shut up.'

They stared at each other. Then, as though some silence signal had been released, their hands dropped from each other and Izuku felt some deep, equally silent ravine open up before them, between them, yawning at the discrepancies between their body language. Something soft and heavy curled up inside his mouth, like the feel of another apology and it sat heavy on his tongue. He wasn't brave enough to push it out though.

'Kacchan,' he said instead, the name drifting out of him in a strangely firm way, enough to get Kacchan to stiffen slightly. 'I know you probably know this, and I know that I know this, but even though we're not in middle school anymore, I still, I mean, it's stupid but...'

'Shut up,' muttered Kacchan lowly. 'Are you brain-dead? There's nothing stupid about your body instinctively protecting itself. You shouldn't try to fight it, idiot; you do it too often in class or out in the field as it is.'

Izuku felt something jump in him then. It might have been his heart. But it was too late to investigate it, or to look deeper into the matter as the bus was drawing up and Kacchan was jerking his head at it impatiently, rather than reaching out to touch him and shove him on board. So Izuku swallowed it down and spent the ride watching dark green flash by the window, the spiky shape of the trees rising up to play shadows against his face.

Kacchan was a lot of things, he knew. But considerate? Towards him? It was something both old, and new at the same time, and it frightened Izuku, just how much he had missed it. And frightened him even more, perhaps, how it was unfurling into this, the new pattern of their evolving relationship.

* * *

'Go wild,' Kacchan had told him at the station. Then he snorted. 'Which for you, I guess, means nerding out.'

Izuku smiled bashfully at the scandalised look a Caucasian teenager gave them; she probably spoke not a lick of Japanese, but the growling tone that Kacchan's voice took up, even when it was being somewhat friendly, was enough to raise anyone's hackles.

'Alright,' he said, a certain boldness creeping into his voice, and probably his face as well, judging by the fierce light springing into Kacchan's eyes as he looked back at him. 'I will.'

And with that, he straightened his shoulders and marched off into the milling throng of people swarming the brown and white flecked buildings. They were decorative, whimsical, a little like the tudor or swiss designs he had seen in books. Izuku patiently weaved his way round people who had cameras chained round their necks or else glued to their eyes, ducking round all sorts of weird colours attached to them, all pastel pinks and army greens, and foreign words emblazoned on t-shirts he couldn't read, finding himself thankful for his own muted clothes in comparison. Nothing really struck his fancy though, so, eyes hooking on the mountain top and the mist-like sweep of clouds that played and rolled over its snow-streaked tip, Izuku raced up the first staircase he came across, letting it transport him to an open-air balcony that prevented the trees nearby from barely grazing his attention with their shadows. So caught up was he in the sight, that he almost managed to tune out the heavy clump of Kacchan's boots behind him, and the conscious effort he made, to stop fretting over Kacchan's reaction as he took photos of the snow topped Mount Fuji summit, was almost negligible.

His hand remained surprising steady on his phone as he felt Kacchan's presence blistering at his side, waiting with a patience Izuku had never really seen when they were together, all as a wispy cloud rolled out of the way of Izuku's shot. And as his finger pressed down firmly, the tail end of the silver cloud unfurling into the sky like a surrendered breath, he heard Kacchan mutter, 'I'm taking you up there anyway, you know.'

But he didn't do anything to prevent Izuku from taking at least seven more photos, and there was only a slightly harried look on his face as he trailed after Izuku into a small touristy shop, afterwards, one that sold melon bread purposefully baked into a conical shape. Streaks of brown dripped down from its top, carving a distinct pattern into the yellowy sponge which Izuku supposed it was meant to represent the streaks of snow you could see resting against Mount Fuji's side.

'Want one?' he offered up timidly, poking the plastic sign containing the scrawled price tag inside with a curious finger. It wobbled and sank softly under its weight. 'I feel kind of guilty since you've been paying for everything so far and you made me breakfast...and several other meals too,' he added, passing an assessing eye over the rucksack that clung to Kacchan's back.

Kacchan scoffed and folded his arms. 'I asked you out here, so I'm paying,' he snarled, a bit of finality to his tone, before he marched over and slammed down money onto the counter of the vaguely disapproving shop-keeper. A second later he turned round, the bread firmly in hand as he stomped back over to Izuku, all to thrust the item of food at him as though it contained the plague. 'You want to eat fancy gimmicky shit like this, be my fucking guest.'

'It's cute though,' Izuku offered, trying to chase the last threads of guilt away by raising the sponge up and biting firmly into the novelty bread. It dissolved into his tongue, almost like candy floss, sweet and artificial. And honestly, there was some secret, wild part of him that was honesty touched at the fact Kacchan was going out of his way to pay for him.

Kacchan surveyed him from under thick, heavy brows. 'Wait here,' he finally grunted out then swaggered off. Izuku frowned, but only halfway obeyed, nibbling at the rest of the small mountain as he drifted over to the doorway, to free up more space in the shop. He passed the time by etching out a large crater into the bread with his teeth. Thankfully, he had yet to see any All Might merchandise.

Less than a minute later Kacchan stomped up to him, an ice cream cone tightly clenched in his fist. 'Here,' he snarled. 'Since you like sickeningly sweet stuff so much, you might as well choke on it and die.'

Izuku ran his eyes almost disbelieving over the orangery-pink soft serve ice cream that curled and flicked it way from out of the depths of the cone squeezed within Kacchan's fist, like a ocean wave rising to the peak of its height. A colour, his analytical mind noted, that was quickly becoming rooted into the shape of Kacchan's cheeks.

'Thank you,' he said, ignoring another scandalised look being thrown their way. Kacchan's verbal barbs had that effect on people.

Instead he tentatively plucked the cone from Kacchan's fingers and let his tongue flick out to scoop up some of the offered treat, registering a soft berry flavour sinking into his tongue moments later. Creamy sweet and ice cold, Izuku paused, his mind dissecting the complicated knot of facial muscles that were pressing Kacchan's frown into a glower. Not an expression focused on Izuku specifically, though his eyes flickered down to Izuku's mouth more often than not, and his fists clenched at his sides. He looked...almost annoyed. At himself.

Izuku dragged his tongue across the crested ripples of the ice cream, swiping a flattered ridge into its side at a diagonal angle, one Kacchan's eyes raked after with no hesitance. And his thoughts raced, almost crashed to a halt as he realised Kacchan was watching the movements of his mouth in the same way Izuku had found his own eyes dragged to the thrust and bite of Uraraka's whenever she was eating something long and thin.

Shit, he thought. And let the ice cream almost fall out of his hand. Panicking, his fist tightened, causing the ice cream to spurt out over his fist. Shit, he though again, watching Kacchan give him a look of disgust that was not quite as pronounced as it would have been at one time in their relationship.

'Can't you even eat an ice cream, right?'

That wasn't the problem, Izuku thought. It was knowing how interested you were in watching me eat it.

He laughed nervously. 'Sorry for wasting your money, Kacchan...I'm surprised though, that you thought to get this for me. You're not a fan of sweet stuff, right?'

Kacchan stiffened. '...Are you saying I can't handle a fucking ice cream?'

Ah. Here was more familiar ground for them both again.

'No,' Izuku snapped out, before he could stop to reign himself in. 'I think you can't handle it, when I'm eating it. Not when you keep looking at me like I'm something Mineta would want to watch on...' he trailed off, the implication of what he was saying, or about to say, catching up to him. 'Ah! I mean-!'

'What, Deku?' Kacchan's tone was menacing and he was leaning forward, a dangerous slant to his mouth. Izuku had categorised all of Kacchan's facial expressions for years and this one was the one he wore when he was feeling particularly sadistic. 'Go on! Continue.'

Izuku watched him, the dark red of his eyes, and the gleam of his white, white teeth, spilling out into a crescent moon slice. Kacchan had always had a strange power over him, and it was only recently that he had began to realise that he wielded a certain slice of it back over Kacchan. Even more now than he had originally thought, now that Kacchan was being honest about leaving his cards on the table.

Kacchan leant forward and huffed a mean, deliberately provocative laugh into his ear. 'You absolute virgin. You got nothing. Not even the guts to continue that sentence.'

Izuku narrowed his eyes. And forced himself to take a deliberately large lick over the mound of ice cream that was staring to melt into his hand. 'No,' he managed, watching Kacchan's eyes drift back down to his mouth again. 'But I must still have _something_ , if it managed to catch your eye. You don't settle for anything less than the best, after all.'

He swallowed the rest of the cone in a harsh bite that made Kacchan's eyes widen in surprise and turned on his heel, half-walking, half-stumbling away from the crowds, with Kacchan not half-a-step behind him.

'You little shit, the fuck you go pulling that confidence from, hah?'

He was whirled round, melting ice cream blurring from the crevices of his fingers into Kacchan's palm as his wrist was seized and he was turned to face the other boy. The sky overhead was very large and blue, light enough to be silver, just enough to bring out the fine blonde strokes of Kacchan's hair and turn them near-white in comparison.

Izuku wanted to kick himself for noticing.

But Kacchan was staring at him, leaning in closer, something manic in his eyes. Almost like he wanted to k-kiss...

'K-Kacchan,' Izuku felt his voice stumble out, a high-pitched warning in its tone. But Kacchan didn't sink any closer and his face didn't twist it on itself, suddenly closed off and sullen, the way Izuku feared it might.

'I'm not gonna do anything, stupid Deku,' Kacchan declared, brash confidence soaring though his tone, enough for Izuku to marvel at. 'Not yet, anyway. I just wanted to memorise that cocky face of yours, so I can take satisfaction over destroying it completely later on.'

Izuku's skin prickled, as Kacchan's grin grew.

'I'm gonna murder you for sure, Deku. In all the ways that matter.'

Oh, thought Izuku, oh no. And yet something in him gave an excited jump at the thought.

* * *

 **Notes:** I'm...conflicted in regard to how jumpy I write Izuku here. Because on the one hand, he is pretty nervy around Katsuki, especially in the beginning of the manga and for good reason too. But in much later chapters, he stands a little firmer, he actually doesn't jump or startle when Katsuki shouts at him. And he doesn't even flinch in recent chapters. And given that this story is meant to take place after their big fight and let's-clear-up-years-worth-of-misunderstandings, after the provisional exams...I don't know if Izuku would be quite as jumpy as he is he is here.

I mean he has a naturally nervous disposition like his mother, and years of wincing at Kacchan's presence doesn't go away overnight (which is why their relationship has been gradually improving over the course of the manga) but I imagine any hint of Katsuki showing romantic interest in him would make him startle like a frightened rabbit all over again, whenever they got too close to each other.

Just my interpretation.


	5. But Going Down is Hell on the Knees

And yet, despite Kacchan's words, there was nothing competitive about the pace they set up the yellow trail Kacchan picked with a grunt. Izuku was content to let him choose, given that Kacchan was the expert here.

'Takes a normal person five to six hours to reach the top, if they don't stop to sleep overnight,' Kacchan said neutrally, not even glancing behind him to see if Izuku could keep up to the pace he was setting and, charmed by this odd assurance that this surely meant Kacchan thought he _could_ , Izuku clutched at the straps of his rucksack with a set of eager hands and quickened his steps.

'Oi!' Kacchan barked out without even turning round. 'Don't go getting cocky, thinking you'll beat me to the top, Deku! And don't get winded either. I'm not carrying your sorry ass down.'

Izuku frowned. 'Right. The oxygen is going to get thinner as we get to the top, and I haven't really done that much interval training recently, and I really should, it would help my cardiovascular system, oh yes, and elevation training would help, it's just you can't really train at such high altitudes at UA, and I guess we can't really race up there, because your body has to work a lot harder to get the same amount of oxygen as it did at a lower-'

This time Kacchan did spin round, a twist to his face that had Izuku stumble to stop and nearly bite his tongue.

'Deku,' he bit out. 'If I thought you were too much of a wimp to handle this, I would have taken you somewhere boring. There's no way I'm gonna let you beat me to the top; but I'm not gonna race you up there either.'

Izuku stared at him. Kacchan stared back, an odd flicker in his face.

'Y-you,' choked out Izuku. 'Don't want to compet-'

'Tch,' Kacchan snarled out, anger rearing to life in his expression. 'There's no competition here; it's a given that I'd beat someone as inexperienced as you at this. But I'm not going to watch you kill yourself trying to overtake me either. Learn your place.'

Then he turned and started walking again.

Izuku frowned and hurried up to him, the adrenalin giving him enough of a boost to not really care when Kacchan's snarling face spun back round to him, open and roaring like a lion. 'What the fuck did I just say-idiot!'

'You said not to overtake,' Izuku cut in firmly, fingers digging into his rucksack straps, enough to steady him. 'Buuut there's no problem if I keep pace with you, right?' he flashed a smile Kacchan's way, his body now level with his.

Kacchan's snarling visage instantly calmed, his expression falling back into his neutral one as he stared stonily back.

'Huh,' he said. 'You really are getting too cocky for a Deku. Do what you want.' His gaze turned up, to trail against the sky that ran out from in between the trees that were still thickly bunched up round the open brown space of the trail. 'But the trail's gonna get thinner the higher up we get. And when that happens, you're definitely going to be behind me, get it?'

Izuku nodded. 'Okay, Kacchan.'

He could make that concession. Kacchan was more experienced with this, more aware of the perils, and he clearly was pacing himself, no fast runs or jogs up any inclines, the way they often did on the UA courses. Izuku could respect that.

Perhaps he had been wrong to expect any sort of race between them this time round. Though the thought, alien as it was, was a little terrifying to think on too long.

And so they climbed. And true to Kacchan's words, the trail did get thinner, the trees falling away as the brown earth became black in patches, before resolving itself into a set of steely grey, loose stones and rocks chipping away and rolling under their boots. It was like fighting against an uphill beach, one with little to no sand.

Izuku found himself stopping when Kacchan told him too and their silences, when they sat, barely centimetres apart, were companionable. Izuku let his breath gust out of him, watched the white roll of clouds beneath their feet and paused to wave at any passer-bys. Kacchan merely grunted at anyone who dared to strike up a friendly greeting at them and Izuku had to fight not to elbow him in the side for it. They weren't there yet, he thought.

The pattern continued, and Izuku found himself falling in line with the relaxed manner of their hike. It was almost soothing, with the roll of clouds overhead and the bright blue stretching over the sky, making him feel awake but not overly so, as his eyes latched onto the odd shimmers that flickered against the hull of his familar red shoes, before roving, moving to take in the gleam of light playing over the path and the way it brushed over the fine spikes of Kacchan's hair. The air was crisp and cold enough to feel pleasant whenever they stopped; and though they didn't pause at every resting hut or station they stumbled across, there was one, a little bigger than most, and flocked by earnest tourist, that he couldn't help but drag his feet over to.

After the tell-tell crunch of his footsteps began to fade from Kacchan's sharp ears, the other boy spun round, a look of apalled shock on his features, before resignation crept into his eyes and he moodily stormed after Izuku. Well, or so it seemed to a few camera-flashing people who backed away from his slouched-over form and rather frightening scowl, but Izuku wasn't fooled. There was a world of difference between a genuinely ticked-off Kacchan who was storming over to make you fall in line with what he wanted, and a Kacchan who was a bit grumpy that things were deviating from the plannned script in his head, but was willing to work with the new development. It was something middle-school Kacchan would have felt threatened by, would have lashed out against. But _this_ Kacchan just gave him a moody stare as Izuku started to fawn over the stray little convenience stalls set up around them, and all the packets of instant noodles and bread they sold.

'Isn't there supposed to be a post office somewhere up here?' he found himself asking and Kacchan merely tossed his head up as though to indicate that they had further up to go.

'Waste of money,' he said dismissively. 'There's nothing you need to send or say to any idiot we know that can't wait until we get down from here.'

Izuku pouted. 'It's a novelty, Kacchan! Come on, it's a fun, part-of-the-experience thing!'

Kacchan's face opened up into a mute snarl and he kicked a stone moodily, hands slammed down inside his pockets. 'That's your thing, nerd, not mine.'

Izuku sighed, but let it drop. 'Alright,' he said, with a small sigh, fingers itching to fiddle with _something_.

Kacchan's eyes flickered to his fingers and almost instinctively, Izuku stilled them. Kacchan's eyes then climbed to his face, the jut of his lip protruding in a meancing fashion as he caught wind of something there that obviously displeased him and Izuku had to fight the urge to wipe his nervous fingers over his face, just to make sure there wasn't a stray crumb littering his cheek. With a growl, Kacchan spun on his heel, storming over to a shop-keeper and uterering a few tense words to him. The shop-keeper nodded, then whisked some sharp implement out of his sleeve, before ripping a small fridge magnet from the board behind him and carving out something on the back of it.

Izuku then watched, feeling a warm flush rise on his face, as Kacchan pulled money of his pocket and gave it to the shop-keeper, before grabbing the magnet and spinning round to march himself back to Izuku.

'Here,' the other boy muttered, all but shoving the fridge magnet at Izuku, with a truely terrifying look on his face. Somewhere in the background, some old lady let out a gasp and buried her face in her husband's sleeve.

Izuku winced and carefully pulled the small magnet out of Kacchan's offered hand, registering just how sticky it was as he did so. Kacchan was sweating _buckets._

 _'Oh,'_ he said, registering the neat brown trim of the mountain within the small postcard-like image, before flicking it over to register the date carved carefully into the top corner.

Kacchan sneered at him, as Izuku felt his eyes well up.

'Nothing about today is forgettable enough to warrent you sending a damn postcard to anyone. They've got nothing to do with this, got it! If you're that worried the experiance is going to leak from your brain, then I'll chisel it down somewhere where only you know where to find it.'

There were a few logical problems with that statement as far as Izuku could see. But the most pressing one was that if Kacchan really wanted to keep everyone else out of their business, then why had he got Izuku a fridge magnet, knowing that the only place Izuku could keep it i.e. the domintory fridge door, was the one place everybody else would clearly see it? Anybody could pick it up and see the date scawled on the back, though, Izuku supposed, it would be kind of rude for them to do so.

Izuku had a few theories behind Kacchan's latest action, but for now he shoved them aside as he smiled at Kacchan and offered a warbly, 'thank you.'

Kacchan let out a snort and Izuku whirled round, mind in a flustered haze as he exclaimed, 'oh, but it wouldn't be fair if I didn't get you anything in retu-'

...Only to be cut off as Kacchan's calloused hand settled round his own. 'You don't owe me a damn thing,' he muttered lowly as Izuku's eyes whipped round to find his. 'I started this; doesn't mean you have to rush in to finish it the way you always do. Come on, nerd.'

Then he started tugging Izuku back to the path. Dazed, Izuku followed. Because...there were several ways he could choose to interpret Kacchan's words. And the most charitable one had his mind reeling. One day, maybe he would perhaps be used to the way Kacchan often did send his brain whirling and scrambling, in a way that felt all to similar to an adrenalin rush. Truthfully, though, he never wanted it to stop.

And it didn't as he was left alone to his thoughts, Kacchan dropping his hand a few moments later and starting to dictate their pace once again. For the next portion of the trek, there wouldn't be a whole lot of conversation between them as they either rested or climbed. Energy had to be preserved or saved. And by the end of it all, as their bodies seemed to become immersed in the sky and the heavy grey and white that filled their view and clouded over the bright blue of before, their limbs dragged down into each tiresome pull of breath and each irksome, heavy step, Izuku found himself not caring, focused only on keeping up with Kacchan. Snow gradually began to seep under their boots, and Izuku grit his teeth, glad of the heavy pull of his muscles, and the bite of his shoes. Hatsume Mei had done some remodelling of them at his request, had tweaked their tread so the grip remained firm against the slip and slid of mud and any other ground that was less than firm. It was still hard-going though, a trip he never would have made in middle school.

Puffing and panting, he found himself frequently stopping to yank on the jacket and layers Kacchan had commanded him to bring. And at one point, as he peered doggedly at each scrap of ground before him, eyes narrowed against the glint of silver the snow played off against his eyes, Kacchan sighed, before dragging him off into a small heap of white, icy snow, and pushing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes with little to no cermony. Izuku blinked at up him from under his new darkened set of lenses.

'Thank you, Kacchan,' he said softly. Then he paused, tilting his head to the side as he let an inquisitive tone seep into his voice. 'Do they make me look like even more of a nerd to you?'

Kacchan snorted. 'Idiot,' he said, the bite of his voice removed somewhat by the exhaustion that seeped in there. 'Sunglasses are cool. But your face is too round to pull the shape of them off well.'

Izuku let a wry smirk play off his lips. 'Like Uraraka's?'

Something dropped into Kacchan's face then, not just the slant of a heavy, dark scowl, but an odd surge of some emotion that flared into his eyes. 'Yeah,' he bit out. 'But her cheeks look even more like a baby's than yours do.'

Izuku frowned. 'You two have really been grating against each other lately,' he observed, watching Kacchan's body stiffen under his inspection. 'What is it with you, guys? She may not be your friend, but she doesn't annoy you the way most other people do, either.'

Kacchan stared at him. Then ran a hand down over the bump of bone that jutted out from the back of his neck. He looked uncomfortable. Not unsure, not exactly, just...uncomfortable.

'Shit,' he said. 'You really are oblivious. So much for your great stalker skills.'

Izuku puffed out at that. 'I'm good at observing people for the purpose of battle and how they implement their quirks,' he pointed out. 'And yes, I analyse their social interactions, but that doesn't mean I'm a mind-reader. I didn't see you liking me at all!'

Kacchan huffed out a breath. 'You like her though.'

Oh. _Oh_. Izuku let his weight sink further down into the snow. 'Kacchan...' he said. He wasn't sure what to say. He couldn't deny it, not really. There was something there between him and Uraraka. And okay, so he didn't know if she felt the same, but...he licked his lips nervously.

'I'm here with you, right now, aren't I?' he asked. But he could hear the uncertainty in his voice and he knew Kacchan could hear it too.

Kacchan snorted and looked him full in the face. 'Deku,' he said and then Izuku felt warmth run down his spine, felt it roll into his belly and fill his stomach with something akin to the heavy weight of gold itself as Kacchan's gloved fingers reached out to run over his own. And then they _twisted_ , with cunning speed, to tangle into all the gaps his shocked hand left open.

'Deku,' Kacchan said again, and there was something softer in his eyes this time, something that made Izuku's attention flinch away from some of the disapproving looks they were getting from a few climbers nearby, to focus solely on Kacchan himself. 'I ain't soft. I'm certainly not _nice._ And I'm definitely not gonna kiss your prissy hurt feelings away the way she'd do.' He stared at him and Izuku found himself unable to look away, despite the breathtaking view that was surrounding them. 'But I guarantee I'll make you tough enough to at least be the number two hero.'

Izuku frowned, moment thoroughly ruined, and attempted to snatch his hand back. But Kacchan's grip tightened. _I'm not finished yet_ , his look told Izuku.

'And I'll keep your sorry ass alive, if nothing else.'

Izuku felt a brow rise, from over the rim of his borrowed sunglasses. 'And Uraraka won't?'

'Oh, she's tough,' Kacchan admitted readily and Izuku felt something in him loosen then; with a surprised breath, he realised that there was something in him, diamond-hard, that was ready to run away from Kacchan entirely and streak down this mountain, if he so much as insinuated that Uraraka was unworthy of anything, least of all his respect. 'But she'll never get to our level. If she surprises me, then good for her. I'll still beat her down though and win.' He gave Izuku a level look. 'And that includes winning you from her, as well.'

Izuku felt his lips part. 'I'm not some prize you can just...a relationship, I mean, you can't just charge in and-'

'Why not?' Kacchan interrupted. 'She had her chance. Still does, so long as you decide this date is a one-off thing. I didn't cheat; I simply beat her to the punch and confessed first. It's her problem if she doesn't have the guts to do the same.'

Izuku frowned. What Kacchan was saying, wasn't wrong technically. And he wasn't insulting Uraraka exactly. Hell, by Kacchan's standards, he was being polite.

They looked at each a while longer, then Kacchan sighed, rolled his shoulder, and shrugged Izuku away. 'Come on, nerd. We're nearly there.'

* * *

There was no sunrise to see, or sunset to be had. Perhaps, Izuku thought, they could do that next time, and flushed at the thought. Maybe he really was crazy.

But watching the grey-blue sweep of clouds beneath and the dark imprint of other hills, perhaps other mountains, poking up beneath, seeing the dark swells of purple, of navy-mauve carving out the crests and spikes of rolling river-dragon-like shapes in the swell of moisture that veiled the sky, made something in Izuku's chest clutch. He was sure it would be all the more beautiful when the sun deigned to fall or peek its way along the horizon, pushing gold and pink and limitless orange over this rocky veil as it dragged light along in its wake.

He didn't even start as Kacchan's arm wrapped round his waist.

'You ready, nerd?'

There was no heat or impatience to his tone and gently, like he was afraid of startling a wild dog, Izuku let himself lean into the touch.

'A few more minutes, Kacchan,' he said softly.

Kacchan grunted and let his arm squeeze even tighter. And Izuku? Izuku didn't flinch away. Instead he allowed himself to become trapped, by the view and Kacchan both.

* * *

Going down was hell on the knees. Izuku honestly felt sorry for the regular civilians who didn't have the intense physical schedule that he and other hero course students had.

Kacchan meanwhile, was sporting a wild grin, a slightly tired-looking one it was true, but familiar and wild all the same. And looking at him, Izuku felt his breath catch. Because, well, Kacchan was beautiful. Not in the soft, exuberant way Uraraka was, all curves and smiles with a shine in her eyes that spoke of violent joy. But in the exhilarating, heart-pumping, adrenalin-sharp way that caused a crack in Izuku's gentle-hearted resolve when Kacchan's eyes stared straight ahead, fixed on the path in front of him with an eager red heat in his battle-crazed eyes. Kacchan had always caused an emotional ache in him, it was true. And yet, there was a small part of himself that he didn't like, that was glad, almost spitefully so, that he was the cause of a similar ache in Kacchan now.

Hours passed, and darkness seeped in, along with the fall of temperature. Honestly, it was getting to the point that Izuku wanted to crawl into a bed and die for a little while. But then, as they stumbled into the fifth station, Kacchan grabbed his hand and dragged off into the creeping shadow of a nearby tree, away from the torches that were being switched on by other hikers.

'Deku,' he breathed out, the pant of his voice rolling out wet and heavy and heady, in that ecstatic way it did when he was thrilled with himself and his own power. 'I'm gonna do some summthin' you might not like. Better give me a real mean hook if so.' Then he grinned thick and brilliant, and leaned in.

Izuku froze, his back to the tree. He could barely feel the bark through the thick ski jacket Kacchan had fished out of his own rucksack and growled at him to put on hours ago, but the fur of the hood nestled against his cheeks and had absolutely nothing to with the warmth that was now being chased onto his face. Kacchan was there, closer than Izuku ever thought he would like and his lips were touching Izuku's.

Izuku didn't squeak, didn't squeal. It felt a tingle and honestly, it wasn't as great as movies had taught him it should be. But something electric still ran down his spine as he leans in, wrapped his arms round Kacchan's neck, got carried away by the wet slurp between them, by the slime of Kacchan's mouth and the wet, heady heat nestled between them, that seemed to try and climb its way into his bones.

His back crashed even further against the tree as Kacchan offered a quick nip at his lip, enough for the pain to crash through the fog they were lost in, and suddenly Izuku was there again, entirely separate from Kacchan, the breath spilling out of his mouth. And Kacchan was looking back at him, open and wide and amazed.

'Deku,' he said, no, growled, arms suddenly slamming into the bark on either side of Izuku's head. 'I want another date. We can go somewhere boring and lame, see some nerdy shit you'll like.' He caught Izuku's gaze with his own. 'But you gotta say 'yes,' first.'

Izuku swallowed. 'Yes,' he bit out. He couldn't even think of saying no. And felt both dread and joy crash into him, warring against the thump-thump-thump of his racing heart and Kacchan grinned at him through the dark, wide and _happy._

And Izuku couldn't bring himself to regret anything, not when it had Kacchan looking at him like that. Besides, judging by the strain he felt digging into his cheeks, he's sure his smile was no better.

* * *

On the train, Izuku nibbled on the cold mush of spare sushi rolls, letting the crisp orange armour of a shrimp tail crunch between his teeth. Things were quiet between them again, not the awkward kind Izuku had half-feared would fall into their path, but the companionable kind that had sometimes driven their bug-collecting forays forward, into the parks near their homes when they were young.

'Do you remember when you gave me that Beni-Hikage butterfly?' Izuku asked all of a sudden, mostly because the flare of the light inside the train was playing out over Kacchan's hair to give it a slight amber tinge, a colour that successfully catapulted him back in time to the memory. 'I was upset because I managed to tear my net open when I tripped over a rock.'

The countryside that Kacchan was staring at through the window seemed to lose its appeal because his head whirled round, his eyes narrowed suspiciously at the question.

'It was just to shut your nerd ass up. You're pretty annoying when you cry and I didn't fancy getting my eardrums busted listening to your wailing that day.'

Izuku smiled at the confirmation that Kacchan did indeed remember.

'You had caught so many. It was pretty amazing, watching all those butterflies flutter against the inside of the jar you brought...'

Izuku trailed off, starry-eyed while Kacchan snorted.

'Yeah, while you, meanwhile, brought your plastic lunchbox. And got all misty eyed because you couldn't make your own transparent zoo-cage or whatever.'

Izuku smiled, ignoring the sadistic glee in Kacchan's voice.

'And then you looked at me and said, 'here, I don't need this one, it looks like it's going to kneel over and die just like you. You two weaklings deserve each other.' And then you fished out my beaker cup, which wasn't, I guess, _exactly_ transparent, but it was still this light, see-through blue that you could peer inside and without blinking, you just opened the lid to your jar, and let almost all your butterflies escape just so could grab the one you wanted to give to me with my beaker.'

Izuku remembered it well, the cascade of blue, white and black wings emerging in a spiralling dance from the opened jar, escaping as Kacchan's arm dived in with a swoop, intense focus written in every line of his chubby face. Izuku's beaker had slammed into the dirt, the black and orange flare of the trapped butterfly within beating against its sides. And while the blue of the beaker had muted the blaze of its colours somewhat, had dyed the black of its wings navy, but the flare of orange splodges that danced the top partitions of said wings, lingered, bright as paint, even with the black dots trapped within, letting them stare out, a little like the eyes of an alien. Izuku had gaped, had uttered a million thank yous that Kacchan had seemed to swallow up with a closed-eyed preen.

'That was a good day,' Izuku said softly.

'Before I got all shitty towards you, huh?'

Izuku froze, the smile wiped clean from his face as he took in the wariness of Kacchan's eyes. The other boy was leaning forward, cheek casually squished against his armrest of a curled hand as his elbow slammed down into the crease between both wall and chair.

'I...' Izuku swallowed, bit his lip. Tried not to quail under Kacchan's searching stare. 'Kacchan for as long as I've know you, you like bright colours like orange and red, and bold, harsh colours too, like black. And out of all the butterflies you could have chosen, you chose the one you liked best and gave it to me.'

He carefully did not say, that the design of the Beni-Hikage wing's kind of reminded him of the flare of Kacchan's spiked hero costume mask. That might be going a little too far.

'And all this food you made and brought for us today? It's hardly spicy at all! Not the way you like it!'

Izuku stared at him pointedly as Kacchan grunted, a rather grumpy expression lingering on his face. Well. Grumpier than usual.

'I know you can be nasty, Kacchan. But if that was all you were, I wouldn't be here. Can you believe that?'

Izuku spared a glance round the carriage, but no one was looking, too absorbed in their books or bentos. Speaking of which...Izuku shifted the tupperware into the curved ledge of his hand, just to ensure it wouldn't go spilling all over the floor as he turned and pressed his mouth to the small slant of Kacchan's own. He felt the heat in his cheeks as he pulled away, trying not to quiver too much as Kacchan stared him down.

 _Well,_ Izuku thought. _At least he looks a_ _ **little**_ _surprised_.

And then he jumped as fingers snapped onto his wrist like an iron manacle, Kacchan's hand pulling him half out of his seat and causing the bento to jolt, to spill a few tiny flakes of rice into Izuku's lap.

'Ahh! Kacch-'

Izuku's protest died a horrible death against the press and pummel of Kacchan's mouth.

 _I'm not a butterfly, Kacchan,_ he found himself thinking wryly. _I'm not about to fly away if you don't grab me quickly enough._

But given the fact that he himself was starting to grab back, he couldn't really be bothered to chase the thought further. _Just a few seconds more,_ he thought, and leaned further in.

* * *

 _Gotcha,_ Katsuki thought in return, and tightened his grip.

* * *

 **Notes:** Next Chapter: The epilogue where Katsuki offers us his illustrious thoughts.


	6. Mission Complete

'And that's how I murdered Deku good,' Katsuki proclaimed triumphantly a few hours later, meeting Jirou's raised brow with a heavy scowl of his own. 'Now shut up and leave me alone.'

Almost everybody had pounced on them as soon as they came through the door. Seriously, Katsuki thought with a mild surge of disgust. It was like the lazy fuckers had no lives of their own to attend to. Did they all forget that there was a TV here? Couldn't they simply all just get their drama fix by watching that?

'Bakugou, literally all I heard you say was that you 'creamed Deku's ass' up and down a mountain,' the red and white Icy-hot fucker said. He even had his arms folded as though he thought he was a teacher or some shit. Well, sorry to disappoint you dick-wad, Katsuki thought, but lame copy-cat moves weren't enough to get his gums flapping.

'I am not going to write you all an erotic diary by telling you exactly how many times I tried to shove my tongue down Deku's throat,' he said. And okay, maybe some things were worth spouting off about, especially if they made Deku squeak, turn redder than a bell-pepper, and stare at him with horror, his upraised fingers wiggling as though they wanted to reach up and claw out his own mouth.

Well, tough shit. He didn't see Deku tryin' to jump up in here to avert the damn vultures round them with some bullshit mumbling or whatever, did he? If he didn't like it, then he should've spoken up sooner.

Round-Face huffed, blowing her cheeks out into to even greater proportions. 'I just hope you treated him nicely, that's all. And that he wanted it.'

Katsuki could have said something particularly scathing to her at that moment, but no, he wasn't thick. He had seen that dangerous glint in Deku's eyes the moment he had brought Round-Face up on that mountain top earlier. Nothing, he now knew, would chase off Deku faster than being spiteful to her, not over _this._

'The fuck?' he snarled. 'You think I go around kissing people who won't want to kiss me back?'

Deku leaned forward and rubbed the back of his head bashfully. 'Come on,' he said, in that nervous way that used to set Katsuki's teeth on edge. And still, to a certain extent did; the nerd had more than proven that he had more than enough pluck in him to _not_ warrant that quavor in his voice that still slipped in more days than most. 'Give it a rest, guys. Please?'

'Aw, c'mon.' Miss pink alien wannabe flounced up to Deku, stars practically radiating out of her eyes. 'I never thought I'd live to see the day I would see Bakugo interested in anybody like this. He's always acting like a shounen lead, screaming about becoming 'number one' and training to get stronger all the time-'

Katsuki glared at her.

'-so much so that I never thought I'd live to see his life adopt part of the route you see a male lead from a shoujo manga take on!'

Okay. Raccoon eyes was dead. D-E-A-D. Six feet under and ashes blown to the wind. Perhaps Deku must have seen the murder in his eyes, because he laughed nervously and put his hands up as though such a futile gesture could possibly protect the people who deserved it. Although frankly, given the odd half-smiles and titters running through the expressions of the rest of the class, Katsuki was starting to determine that no one here merited that consideration.

'You fuckers gonna say something instead of just sneering about it?' he grit out harshly. 'No? Then get lost! Why not run off and find yourself your own date instead of asking three hundred questions about mine?!'

Round-Face wore an awkward expression at that and Katsuki felt a slight pang at the obvious hurt in her eyes, though she wore it well, and kept a smile fixed on her face. Ro- no, _Uraraka_ was bearable, at least, unlike the majority of the world outside. It's not like he really wanted her to start crying into her pillow at night.

...But he had made the first move here. More importantly, he was _winning._ Deku had let at least two kisses happen without pushing back or running away, or doing any of the other hundred little things that would have sent Katsuki's heart crashing into his loafers to shatter and die.

The _hell_ if Katsuki was going to let that go.

Though some of the class now looked as though they wanted to, sporting looks as awkward as Uraraka's. A few of these were directed at her because obviously not every fucker in the room was an oblivious shithead like Deku...and some of the other were locked into the line of grimaces or winces. Maybe because they hadn't had the guts to sort out their crushes and take action into their own hands or whatever. Katsuki didn't really care all that much about it, so long as it didn't fuck the dynamics in the class over so badly that future training spars were thrown out of whack due to the resulting awkward atmosphere.

And Uraraka he knew from experience, was more than strong enough to refuse to let any kind of loss make her back down from her dream of being a hero and proving herself.

On the other hand, there was no need to rub her nose in his and Deku's business either. Deku certainly wouldn't thank him for it, once he pulled his head out of his ass and realised her big stinkin' crush on him.

'I'm going to bed!' he barked out. Then he leveled a glare Deku's way, unsurprised to see the nerd jump slightly in response. 'You can plan out the next date,' he grumbled, folding his arms. 'It won't be anywhere near as awesome as mine was today, and you better not even think of getting all stressed out about it and falling asleep in class tomorrow...' He paused to huff out an annoyed grunt, mostly because Deku's crybaby eyes were getting all big and wide and shiny, filled with all that gratitude that always clotted up his tongue and made him feel weird and squishy inside. It was hard not to be attracted to them really, the suckers took up half of Deku's face when they did that, and like magnets they drew your attention in, smashing your resolve to pieces and conjuring up a weird, simmering anger in its place. Or at least with Katsuki they did. 'That is, if you even want to, you damn nerd!'

Deku's eyes got even wider at that. 'What? No, I want to, I want to! You won't be disappointed Kacchan!'

Katsuki grunted and turned away, before he could get pulled in any deeper. He refused to let the odd hold Deku had on him control every impulse he had, especially not in front of the rest of their nosy class.

Besides, while Deku was indeed a Deku, and always would be, he often ended up working harder than anybody else. So whatever he came up with probably wouldn't be a colossal waste of Katsuki's time.

Katsuki didn't realise how sharp and fierce his grin was until it made the tiny pervert and his bubonic plague haircut cry as he turned the corner. And even then, he wasn't too fussed.

At least Deku had never run away because of something as simple as a lip movement for fuck's sake.

* * *

Izuku stared at the line of Katsuki's retreating back. Plus Ultra, he though, clenching his fist tight. Because Kacchan deserved a lot of things. But what he would always deserve was Izuku's very best efforts and nothing less.

And then he frowned. 'I can't repeat what happened today, Kacchan will think it's lame, and I can't cook as well as Kacchan can, though I'm at least average at it, so a picnic might not go down too well. Hmm, maybe a cinema would be okay, but it seems a little cliché and there aren't any films out lately that I could see Kacchan being happy to watch, it's a bit of a slow season in terms of appeallable genres, but an aquarium might be good, or a museum, Kacchan likes learning about stuff and observing things, and he finds animals cooler than he'll ever admit to-'

Uraraka stared at her friend as he sunk deeper and deeper into the sofa, hand buried over his mouth as he mumbled up a storm, eyes focused on the floor. Only to jump as Todoroki placed a hand on her shoulder.

'Better to leave him to it,' he advised. 'It's not our place to interfere.'

It wasn't meant as a reprimand, Uraraka knew. But she still felt a sudden influx of sweat beading on her brow. Because was Todoroki like Aoyama-kun? Did he know? Know that she liked-

Todoroki gave her a quiet smile, simple and small, but Uraraka felt her breath catch at the sight. When Todoroki smiled, he lit up from within, like he had caught a smidgen of peace for himself and was hoarding in a way nobody could ever steal from him. It was also quite a rare sight.

'That doesn't mean we can't interfere though, if Bakugou fails to treat Midoriya like an actual person though, alright?'

Uraraka caught the slant to his smile, the way it quirked, as though he was trying to share a joke with her. And unbidden, despite the pang in her heart, she smiled back.

'Sure!'

His hand fell from her shoulder and she watched him wonder away. Then she clenched her fist, fire building in her heart. Because there was a new video she had got Hagakure to film for her, that needed her trusty editing skills to push it into a real joke, one the whole class could enjoy! She would just have to get Yaoyorozu and her proxy servers or whatever they were called to help her email the latest ones to Kaminari anonymously again.

Some parts of their class would change, she reflected sadly. Friendships would be strained and new relationships would be created in their place, wearing at bonds that were already there. But she, Deku, and Iida, she resolved, would always be the _Totoro,_ Satsuki, and Mei of the class. And if not, she would at least always have her edited videos to help her remember a time when they were.

And that she supposed, would have to be that.

* * *

This, thought Katsuki, with a sharp, sudden grin, was great.

Six-thirty the next day, after dreams that didn't involve sludge villains or people with hands that could flake skin and muscles off bones, and it had landed him in the kitchen with Deku, after a short nervous text message asking him, if it wasn't too much of a bother, could he please come here, now. Katsuki, always an early riser, especially on a school day, had spent a few seconds staring blearily eyes at the words, before his memories of the next day had jolted him firmly aware, and with a savage thrill of triumph, pounded out a threat back to Deku, who he could imagine was already working himself up to a panic attack over the absence of a instant reply.

'Don't chicken out,' he had responded. 'Or I'll kil-'

And then he had stopped, a hint of pensive confusion on his brow as he remembered the various flinches and jolts of Deku the day before, and how, for one heart-breaking moment, he had almost held his breath, crushing disappointment aching his bones as Deku hesitated, before bravely entering the elevator beside him, the memory for Icy-Hot's barbed words ringing between them.

Because while Katsuki did not typically fall prey to the overwhelming amounts of empathy for other people Deku was constantly falling victim to, it didn't mean that it was beyond him. And for Deku, someone that Katsuki had always felt _entirely_ too much for over the years, whether it was negative or positive at the time, well. No one had ever quite demanded his attention like the little freckled freak.

Really, Deku was a spoiled brat that way. Too bad no one could ever really see it for what it was. But Katsuki knew. Even the times when Deku longed for Katsuki to leave him alone, even then, he could not help but flick his eyes over to him in the classroom, to look at him with eyes that spoke of something Katsuki had found hard to read. At times it had pissed him off. At others, it had just plain sickened him. And, intentional or not, Deku had certainly found ways to drag Katsuki's attention back to him again and again, to wretch it away from the goalpost of number one that Katsuki should have found so easy to reach. So yeah. Despite what he might say, Deku certainly liked having a place in Katsuki's mind. And, if yesterday was a decent indication, his heart too.

Katsuki grinned. And if he had a mirror in his room placed just so, he would have promptly flushed and growled at how goofy said grin was.

But as it was, steadily, the analytical part of his brain snapping into focus, Katsuki carefully deleted his rushed words of before. And typed out a terse 'fine.' Instead. Partly because he was mindful of how wary Deku had been, and while he wasn't about to restrain who he was, _fuck that_ , there was no harm in utilising caution, at least this time round. Katsuki was no stranger to doing things that chafed at him, not if it was to help him get what he wanted.

Plus, he thought with a rueful leer down at the screen, Deku would drive himself absolutely crazy over analysing this short simple word he had been sent, reading far too much into all the missing ones Katsuki had refused to type out.

Because while Deku could still be a moron over certain things, that was one thing he had never failed to get right over the years, ever since he had first announced it to Katsuki's face with a masterful wail, all the mournful dejection of a wronged four year old present in its tone.

 _'Kacchan, you're mean!'_

Yes, Katsuki thought gleefully. He was. Deal with it, Deku. It was far too late for either of them to back out now.

* * *

Two minutes later, Deku was meeting his eyes squarely, only a slight tremor holding him in place. And if the freckles on his cheek were currently littering a red landscape of flushed, embarrassed skin? Yeah. That was a definite bonus.

Katsuki, leant against the wall, eyes idly passing over the strange mis-mash of shapes littering the kitchen table between them. Like shadows, the pamphlets fanned out like a college Deku had tried and failed to piece together. And then he let his grin stretch out into a leer and swaggered forward. 'Yeah? What was that? You got shit for a tongue as well for a brain now too?'

The flush under those freckles, impossibly, got redder. Volcano-red. Only, given the sudden annoyance flashing in Deku's cry-baby eyes, that was more of an effect of anger, rather than being simply tongue-tied by nerves.

Well. Fair was fair. Honestly, Katsuki had been feeling the same boiling over of fraught nerves for the past month or so, as he wrestled with how to handle the entire subject of Deku and his feelings in the first place. Fear had rang rampant over his heart the past few days, had reached a crescendo when Deku had first told him 'no' to his face, over the flowers he had spent hours agonising over and arranging within the confinement of his room, as though it was nothing, _Katsuki_ was nothing, and Deku thought himself too good for him, Katsuki, who could run rings around many of the other losers in the class, or any other hero school out there…

Well. As far as Katsuki was concerned, this was more than fair.

Deku looked at him, a little fire in his eyes (something Katsuki had begrudgingly learnt to savour) and said, not a little crossly, 'I was trying to repay your gesture, with the flowers and everything! You like sharks, you think they're cool, and they've got this really large tiger one delivered to that Moonshine Aquarium, the one that has had open-air pool that they let you go into at night, and I figured, you know, swimming with them will be cool, and, a-a-and I already booked us tickets…'

This trailed off sentence was accompanied by the nervous meeting of Deku's fingers as he prodded them against each other. Katsuki watched, open curiosity in his face as he turned his head again, watching the odd circular flow of aquatic life decorate the green and blue spill of photos Deku had painstakingly laid out in a heart shape, as well as a heavily hand-scrawled map of said aquarium stuck dead in the centre. A masterpiece it was not. But it was horribly, stupidly Deku. All of it, from the wobbly lines, to the carefully marked out red and green lines marking out optimum routes to take within a time frame of five hours…or so Deku had neatly written at the side.

My handwriting's still neater, Katsuki thought smugly.

'Sap,' he said simply.

Izuku flushed.

'Nerd,' Katsuki said again, letting the word roll out in a cruel bite of sound as he stepped forward, planning to flick Deku's forehead, and maybe follow it up with a swift punishing kiss, that should hopefully get the message across to Deku that yeah, he was game for this stupid date idea.

But Deku, troublesome shit that he was stepped back, hand curling against the counter behind him as he thoroughly derailed Katsuki's awesome move by saying, brows all furrowed and ugly-looking, 'you could just say yes, Kacchan, instead of being mean.'

Katsuki shot him a look of pure perplexation. Did the idiot not know what he was signing up for? And then whatever else Katsuki would have found fit to bite out was swallowed up by shock as Deku said, voice reedy-thin but still so terribly strong, 't-that's only if you want to…h-honey.'

Katsuki's brain slammed to a stop. And Deku, the brat, the toe-rag, the absolute nerd, flushed again and looked down, away, curls flopping over his eyes and making him seem almost cute, if you were into the sort of shit, which Katsuki was decidedly _not_ , before he stared Katsuki straight in the face. Nervous yes, but still meeting his eyes.

'The fuck…' whispered Katsuki, before his brain kicked into overdrive.

'OI, WHERE DO YOU GET OFF USING STUPID ASS WORDS LIKE THAT! MAKES ME SICK TO MY STOMACH.'

'Ah,' murmured Izuku, cringing a little at the volume currently belting his ears but not looking nearly as crowed as Katsuki felt he should be. 'Guess nicknames are out.'

Katsuki looked at him aghast. How was he seriously this stupid?!

'DON'T EVER CALL ME ANYTHING LIKE THAT AGAIN, OR DIE, SERIOUSLY! YOU'RE JUST DEKU, NOT SWEETHEART OR A DAMN PICKLED PLUM OR ANYTHING CUTESY OR STUPID.'

Aaaand there went his plans for approaching Deku with anything approaching caution. Still, Deku was looking at him with that look on his face, the one Katsuki was still a little unsure how to deal with, mouth quivering upwards into a discernible lilt. A small, shaky smile that did nothing to appease Katsuki's anger.

'I didn't say you had to use them, Kacchan,' the fucker said. 'But still…just Deku huh? Just like you're always Kacchan?'

The words dried up in Katsuki's throat. I mean, at least Deku **got** it now, but still.

'IT'S MORE THAN THAT! IF ANYONE STARTS COMING UP WITH NAMES LIKE THAT IT SHOULD BE ME NOT YOU!'

Izuku blanched. 'Wait, that was your main problem with it? That I did it first? _Kacchan_.'

Ah. There it was. That wail. That protesting, whiny tone. Like Deku was four again.

Katsuki calmed down, even if Deku was looking anything _but_. Still, that worked in his favour. Deku had his back to the counter, there was nowhere for him to go; Katsuki could easily box him in and wrestle a kiss from him and Deku probably wouldn't fight him on it too much, the nerd was actually a bit eager for stuff like that, more so than all the goody little two shoes in their class suspected…

'Excuse me,' said the Two-Tone Icy-Hot fucker, who apparently, was fast becoming the kitchen's official watchdog as he popped his head round the doorframe. 'Some of us actually use the kitchen to eat. Not to host a domestic disturbance. And my soba noodles are in that cupboard you're up against Midoriya.'

Izuku squeaked, his red flushed paling into an embarrassed pink, and he instantly stepped away, an apology clotting up his tongue, before with a scowl, Katsuki swept in, ramming him back against the cupboard with an unsubtle 'bang.'

'Really?' Todoroki uttered, completely deadpan as Katsuki proceeded to smear Deku's mouth in an angry kiss, biting to turn the squeaks into a pitiful set of moans. 'You're holding my noodles hostage? That's low, Bakugou.'

Well, Katsuki thought, feeling his temper ease somewhat at the rather nice way Deku was wiggling against him. You tried to separate me from Deku yesterday. What goes around comes around.

He pulled back. Deku was looked at him, dazed and happy, still pink in the face. Only to turn pinker as Todoroki swept his gaze over the mural he had decorated the kitchen table with.

'I can tell you worked hard. Well done.'

Deku laughed nervously. 'I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not.'

'No,' said Todoroki, completely straight-faced which wasn't really helping his case at all. 'It's a thoughtful gift. I just hope Bakugou appreciates it.'

Katsuki snarled. And started sweeping the photos up into his hands. 'These aren't for your eyes, so keep them shut!'

Flustered, Izuku started to help. And flushed again, quite prettily, when Katsuki caught sight of the fridge magnet he had brought for him yesterday, plastered in the topmost corner of the fridge.

Funny, Katsuki had spent years trying to find a way to control Deku. Had spent months realising, with heart-banging horror, just how much power Deku had over him. And now, finally, the scales were tipping in his favour.

Katsuki grinned, carefully folding Deku's hand-drawn map into a neat square. Too bad for Deku that he was mean enough not to let that one go. To not let _any_ part of that go. He had been stuck with Deku for years. And now that he was finally comfortable with letting that trend continue, well. Deku better brace himself.

Because Katsuki was going to **win.**

* * *

 **Notes:** Unfortunately, a rather short epilogue. It felt wrong to add more. Dunno if there's anything else to add to this series...I mean I guess it would be interesting to see Izuku freak out over planning a 'second' date but whether I'll ever summon up the energy to do it is another matter entirely!

Thank you to all who commented and found this series amusing. Like I said, I don't know oif I'll add more; I covered both sets of parents. Maybe if Izuku's dad rears his head in the series and I actually get a peek at who he is at a person, the way we got with Katsuki's parents...I don't like not being relatively canon-compliant and making stuff up when there's a fair chance that he might one day appear to upset the status quo. We've no idea how Izuku feels about him one way or the other, so I'm reserving judgement until that day (if it ever comes!) appears.


End file.
